The Troll Bridge

By Larry Auerbach

In 1935 west Texas, two teenagers—Duane McCathern and Tony Picano—decide to go search for a lost treasure of Confederate gold based on an old tale told by a retired Texas Ranger, involving Indians and a mysterious spirit. As their hunt starts, another boy, a long-time rival, finds them in a cave and they must reluctantly include him

• Language: English
• Publisher: Book Vine Press
• Release date: Dec 1, 2018
• ISBN: 9781949574418

Larry Auerbach

Larry Auerbach is a practicing psychotherapist of twenty-three years in Pt. St. Lucie, Florida, where he lives with his wife of 32 years. He earned his Master's in Social Work from Barry University in Miami Shores, Florida, in 1991 and has maintained a busy practice ever since. He has traveled out West for numerous pack trips, re-enactment rides and his interests include chess and horseback riding. He is a collector of frontier memorabilia, and maintains an extensive library of the people, places and events of the American Wild West. He is a member of the Western Writers of America, and this is his fourth novel. He can be reached at [e-mail].

Book preview

Prologue

On a warm spring day, an elderly couple stood on the bank of the river, staring up at the long iron bridge that spanned the two mile wide Troll River. The bridge, which was almost as old as the town itself, was a prominent feature of the town. They held hands in silence, looking at the most interesting structure in the state. Each was lost in their own thoughts, remembering past warm sunny days, and the good times they had shared over their seventy-five years together. As they stood there, hand in hand, and their other hand on their intricately carved wooden canes, they thought of less sunny days, and some of the memories brought a tear to their eyes. They didn’t need to speak, both knew what the other was thinking about. The Troll River Bridge.

The bridge connected the north part of Tolliver County with the south portion of the county. The bridge was old, perhaps seventy years old, and there were many patches of rust on the obviously worn girders. The lattice work of the iron girders made an intricate pattern in the sunlight, casting its shadow on the rapidly coursing river below. The bottom of the bridge was about seventy feet above the river itself, a little less when the river ran high, or a little more when there was a drought. There was a walkway along the length of the bridge that many locals used as a fishing platform, the river being full of fish most years, and it was a favorite spot for the local teens to hang out. From time to time, the teens would practice their high diving off the walkway, until some drunk seventeen year-old missed the river and hit the concrete piling and the county put up a screen to prevent this from happening again. Teenagers being significantly fearless and reckless, they simply climbed up the lattice work until they were above the screen and jumped from there.

Tourists always marveled at the sheer size and imposing but nostalgic image the bridge created as they approached it from the west. The entry to the bridge was just as awe inspiring from the east, as the bridge could be seen in a graceful curve as it crossed the river. One of the more frequent comments tourists would make while shopping in Fremont, was that they were surprised by how quiet the bridge was as they passed over it, despite its age. It was always referred to as the old Troll River Bridge, and almost all of the locals thought of it that way.

But there were still yet a few old-timers who remembered when it was the New Troll River Bridge. And there were even still a few of those who remembered the original Troll River Bridge. And just maybe, one or two could even remember the reason why there was a New Troll River Bridge.

The couple turned away from the bridge, and hand in hand, they walked away from the bank heading back towards town. As they walked away, neither of them glanced at the statue that stood at the foot of the bridge and didn’t bother to read the plaque describing the statue, or who it was commemorating. They didn’t need to.

Chapter 1

Duane McCathern and Anthony Picano were best friends. They had been best friends since the third grade, when they had met in the school yard. Duane was 15 years old and he was small for his age, only about five foot four, and a year younger than Anthony. Duane had brown eyes, a reddish cast to his complexion, and coal black hair, a feature some boys thought indicated he might be part Indian, and some of them would use that as a way to start a fight with him. In 1935 west Texas, that was sufficient reason to start a fight, as many of the boys had grown up hearing tales of Indian fighting from their fathers and grandfathers, and the wars were still fresh in the memories of some of the survivors of those wars. Duane was slim in stature, and didn’t like fighting because he didn’t know how to fight. His father had left the family when Duane was two, and was never heard from again. Duane was raised by his mother, who loved her son, but had little time to give him as she was working two jobs to put food on the table and a roof over their head. To make matters worse, Duane was a bookworm and not athletic at all. He was always the last kid picked for any team sport, and once he was picked last after three tomboys in a neighborhood game of baseball. All the boys in his school would pick on him and bully him because they knew he wouldn’t fight back. What Duane did have that kept him from being totally isolated was a special talent…he knew how to do card tricks and sleight of hand magic. Duane also had another talent. As uncoordinated and awkward as he was on land, he was a natural in the water and could swim like a fish.

Anthony Picano was everything Duane wasn’t. He was a head taller and more muscular than Duane, and was good at any sport he tried his hand at. He had blonde hair and a winning smile with gleaming white teeth. He was very popular with the girls and quickly became the leader in every activity that he joined. Anthony was always the first one chosen to be on any team sport and any team that had him on their side, would often spot the other team points before they started.

They had been matching pennies and Duane had been consistently winning, when Anthony accused him of cheating by manipulating the penny when he was supposed to show what he had. This of course had led to the challenge of a fight. Anthony had fully expected Duane to fold up and give him back his losses, but to his surprise, Duane hadn’t backed down. Duane had lost the fight very quickly, he really had no chance to win, but Anthony had been impressed by Duane’s courage and he found himself liking this younger boy in spite of himself. When one of Anthony’s friends began to ridicule Duane for his losing the fight, no one was more surprised than Anthony to hear himself telling his friend to leave Duane alone. He had helped Duane to his feet and they had become best friends from that moment on. Anthony worked with Duane to improve his skills at sports, and Duane had taught Anthony several card tricks that he had learned to perform passably well. Anthony’s larger hands prevented him from developing the degree of dexterity Duane had, but Anthony was more athletic than Duane. Despite his being a bookworm, the younger boy was quite daring and a real adventurous individual. Anthony was a joiner, while Duane was more of a loner, but there was something about Duane that Anthony responded to and he would follow Duane in anything the fearless younger boy thought of doing.

The two boys were sitting Indian fashion on the ground, looking out at the bridge and talking about their plans for the summer. Duane was shuffling a deck of cards with his off-hand, a habit he had developed to help himself learn the business of sleight-of-hand more efficiently. Anthony just watched in amazement as Duane’s fingers worked the cards around.

I just don’t see how you can do that so easily, Duane. Whenever I try, the damn cards go flying all over the place, Anthony said, envious of the other boy’s skill.

Shoot, it ain’t nothin’ you couldn’t do with a little more practice. That’s all the difference, you know. I practice this all the time. You just gotta remember, practice makes—

Yeah, I know. Practice makes perfect, Anthony quickly responded in a sarcastic tone.

No, that ain’t it at all, Tony. Practice DON’T make perfect, perfect don’t exist. Practice just makes for better. Once you do perfect, there’s but one direction you can go, and that’s down again. Duane corrected him, laughing as he did.

Well, that’s okay. You do your card tricks and such, and I’ll score the points with the girls. We’ll see who has a better time at night, Duane, Anthony said with a laugh as he playfully punched his friend in the shoulder.

After a few seconds, Duane looked out at the river, swiftly flowing in front of them, and turned to his friend. Say, Tony, you been here longer than me, how come this here river is called the Troll river when the town is called Fremont?

Anthony sat up straight, and looked at his friend in the eye. You mean you don’t know the story? You never heard about the troll that lives in the caves under the bridge? he asked with a serious expression. I thought most everyone knew about them trolls and their love for bridges. You sure you ain’t funnin’ me by sayin’ you don’t know?

No, Tony, I don’t. I never heard tell of that story, only that there was some such. If you know the whole of it, I’d sure like to hear it, Duane told him eagerly, shifting his position so that he could see the old rickety wooden bridge while looking at his friend.

Well, I can tell it as I heard it, ’though there might be some as tells it different, this here is the way of it as I know it, an’ I’ll sure tell you the straight of it. You just get comfortable, ’cause this story takes some time to tell it right, Anthony drawled.

Now, as I heard it, this all started back about in eighteen-fifty when this town was started. The river, it was a little narrower back then— Anthony started out.

Narrower? You mean the river wasn’t always this wide? How’d it happen? Duane asked curiously.

I’ll get to that, but that part comes later on. You wanna hear this or not? Anthony stalled, squinting at his buddy as he tried to recall the rest of the story.

I’m sorry, Tony. You tell it as you know it, I’ll be patient, Duane promised solemnly.

Alright then, now you just sit there and let me tell it. Now, just so I’m clear on this, I heard this directly from the man who knew all about it, Cap’n Maxwell Klein, late of the Texas Rangers. He said it was part of the reason he quit the Rangers, he couldn’t sleep at night, thinkin’ on what he had seen. He told me this story himself, back when I was younger, ’bout five or six years ago. He said he was there when it happened, so he should know all the particulars on it, Anthony assured Duane knowingly.

That’s all well and good, Tony, but get on with it and tell me what happened! Duane pleaded impatiently.

Hold your horses, boy! Anthony cautioned him, enjoying his command of the moment. I’m getting there, just be patient. Now, where was I? Oh yeah. Cap’n Klein. So Cap’n Klein, he said they was chasing down some young bucks who had gone on the warpath after getting all hopped up on redeye. He said they had burned a coup le of ranches and farms on their way back, and had ended up here on the west bank of the river. Right over there somewheres, Anthony said as he pointed to a spot near the hill where the bridge began.

Duane turned his head to look, imagining he was seeing teepees on the side of the hill. He could almost see them, and their horses feeding on the grass waving in his mind’s eye.

So Cap’n Klein told me that he had just come up on them with his squad and was getting ready for a fight when those red devils came a’ hollerin’ and a’ whooping towards him. He said he thought he was a goner when they all rushed right past him, leavin’ them in their dust. He said he didn’t know what to make of that, and was just gettin’ ready to go after them when one of the redskins came riding back to him and began walking his pony in a back and forth motion, signing that he wanted to talk. Well, Cap’n Klein, he tells the others to wait for him and he and his interpreter walked their horses up to the redskin to palaver. Cap’n Klein, he said the redskin seemed downright upset about something, and the more they talked, the more agitated he became. The interpreter, he seemed to be having a problem as well. When Cap’n Klein tried to ask what was going on, the interpreter just waved him off and kept jabbering with the redskin. Finally, the redskin rode back to his friends and they all rode off towards their home ground. Something had scared them out of their warpaint and they were having none of it. And Cap’n Klein, he said those old boys didn’t scare for nothin’. So it had to be somethin’ pretty damn scary for them to be running away. The interpreter told him that redskin had said they had seen a monster and it took one of their braves who got too close to it. They said it was big and furry like a bear, but it walked upright and had blazing red eyes. The interpreter told them they said they had fired at it but it didn’t stop it, and then it grabbed the warrior who tried to kill it and dragged him off into one of the caves in the hillside. They said they could hear screaming, but it stopped suddenly and that’s when they took off. Cap’n Klein said he never saw those redskins again in that part of the country, Anthony related slowly, for greater effect.

What happened then? Duane asked, his eyes getting bigger.

Well, Cap’n Klein, he said he took his squad back to the river and they all got down off their horses to look around. To add power to his words, Anthony hunkered down and looked over to the high banks and the slope of the hill with a nervous glance. Cap’n Klein, he said he saw a lot of blood on the ground as he walked around. You got to know, there wasn’t no bridge back then, just a ford across at the shallowest part, and that wasn’t too shallow even back then. Word was back then, lots of people who tried to ford it at the wrong time of year, they didn’t make it across. Some of them got pretty chewed up by the rocks under the water, and some were never found again. Anyway, Cap’n Klein, he saw some caves in the hillside and he takes his squad over to investigate them. He said what he seen there made him sick inside, and he had the others cover them caves up by pushing the top of the cliff over, leaving the hill more of a slope like it is now, instead of the high wall it was, Anthony told him.

So, you’re saying there are caves under that hill? Duane asked excitedly, looking back at the hill. Maybe there are still some old Indian relics in there, do you think?

"Maybe, but that’s not all that’s in there. Here’s the rest of what Cap’n Klein told me. He said that when he went into some of them, he just found broken pottery and old campfires, but the one closest to the water, that’s the one where he got the bejesus scared out of him. He said he saw a bunch of bones in there, human bones, that looked like they had been gnawed on and through. He said that some of them looked recent, too! He said when he looked around, he saw some fur on the ground near a wall, where it looked like something big had been scratching itself."

A bear maybe?

No, it wasn’t no bear. Cap’n Klein, he knew a bear from a wolf, and it wasn’t no bear. Leastways, no bear the likes of anything he had ever seen before. He said he saw tracks there too, tracks like no animal he had ever seen in all his days with the Rangers. It was a little like a footprint and sorta like a bull, but no bull ever made that track ’cause it walked on two feet, not four. Cap’n Klein, he said it put him in mind of a story he once heard tell of from his grandma, back in Bavaria. She told him it was a troll, some kind of wild ferocious animal that lived under bridges and would demand payment to cross. Them that didn’t pay, they got eaten. Anyways, Cap’n Klein said he always thought that was just a story to scare him from wanderin’ off when he was a child, but after seein’ what he saw, he wasn’t so sure. Well, Cap’n Klein said the men he was with asked him about that story when they heard him say ‘troll’, and they all began talking about it and saying it had eaten all the other missing travelers, and it just got bigger every time they told it. Cap’n Klein, he tried to stop the story but it took on a life of its own. They built that wooden bridge over the caves to keep the monster trapped, and that’s how it came to be known as the Troll River, Anthony exclaimed with a flourish as he finished his tale.

Duane looked at the old wooden bridge, and began to imagine the treasure and relics he could find in the caves. If he could find the caves, that is. He could see all sorts of possibilities for the things he could find, perhaps get his name in the newspapers. Do you know where those caves are, Tony? Do you think we can find them again?

What the hell for, Duane? Wait—you want to go digging in there under that bridge and try to find those old bones and that monster? Whatever for? Anthony asked suspiciously.

Because of what valuables we might find in there. Old coins, old weapons, anything that we might be able to sell or something. Besides, it’ll be a real adventure, don’t you know, Duane told him, a gleam in his eye.

Yeah, if we were to actually live through it, Anthony said sourly.

Oh, for crying out loud, Tony. You don’t actually believe that malarkey, do you? A monster that lives under a bridge, a monster that demands payment or it eats people? Come on, that’s just a tall tale that old man was telling you to scare you out of your wits on a dark night, Duane told him scornfully.

I don’t know, Duane. The old man seemed pretty shaken up by it when he was tellin’ me all about it. An’ there have been people who got lost out there in the river, people that no one ever found, Anthony responded thoughtfully.

Wake up, Tony, it’s just a story. Come on, you saw me do some incredible things with playing cards that the bumpkins would call magic. I’ve shown you how to do them, they’re just tricks and misdirection. That’s all that story is, misdirection and getting people to believe what you want them to see. There’s no such thing as real magic or real man easting monsters living under a bridge. I’ll prove it to you! Duane jumped to his feet and stuck out his hand to Anthony.

What do you have in mind, Duane? Anthony asked cautiously. He knew his friend quite well, and he knew he was a risk taker. But he was always fun to be with, because life was never dull when Duane was around.

Okay, pal, the first thing we do is we scout the bank on this side for any sign of a cave. Then we go over to the other side and scout that side for caves. Nothing else, okay. Just a scouting trip…this time, Duane promised him.

Okay, we just walk along here and look…for….what? Anthony asked as he saw his friend’s expression darken.

Tony, be serious. We can’t see anything from up here. We have to see it from down there, just as it was back then. Just as they saw it. Then we’ll be able to see where the caves could be by looking at the land formations. We should be able to tell where it isn’t a natural contour and that’s where we will start hunting, Duane told him as he started looking for a way down the side.

Duane, that’s a pretty steep drop-off here, I don’t know how we can get down without a rope or something, Anthony said hesitatingly as he leaned over to look down at the river far below them. I figure that’s about seventy feel down, and I see a lot of rocks down there. I sure as hell don’t want to fall on them, and I don’t think you would either.

As Duane leaned over to get a better look for himself, he stepped on a rock that rolled under his foot and lost his balance, falling to the ground. He reached out to catch himself on a nearby root, but missed and began sliding down the bank to the river.

Anthony reached out for his friend and grabbed for Duane’s outstretched arm.

Hold on, Duane! I’ve got you! Anthony called out as he locked his hand on Duane’s wrist. Leaning forward to grab Duane’s loose shirt, Anthony over-extended himself and losing his own balance as well, both boys fell into the swiftly flowing river. As they spluttered to the surface, Duane looked around for his friend and saw him floundering in the fast moving water, while moving farther away from him.

I’m coming, Tony! he called out as he began swimming faster to catch his friend. As soon as he was within arm’s reach, Duane reached out to grab Anthony and pull him close while turning him over, holding his head above water as he swam to the west shore.

Once Duane felt the ground under his feet, he pulled Anthony up and draping his friend’s arm over his shoulder, he struggled to climb up the bank and once he reached the safety of the flat ground, he dropped him on the grass, collapsing beside him a moment later. Both boys lay there, exhausted and breathing heavily, spitting up water they had taken in while in the river.

Damn, Anthony. Why don’t you learn how to swim? Duane gasped out.

Don’t need to, so long as you’re around, Anthony responded breathlessly, but cheerfully.

Both boys began laughing and quickly regained their feet.

Well, Duane, I guess we’re at ground level now, so we might as well do some of that scouting you were so fired up about. Do we go in opposite directions or stay together?

Tony, we can cover more territory separately, but I’d rather have you with me…just in case you fall in the water again.

Okay buddy, so tell me again what we are looking for.

Anything that doesn’t look natural. Nature doesn’t usually have square corners or flat spaces in the middle of a hill. Look for anything that seems out of place or odd. Any place where there’s no grass growing could indicate a lot of rock formations under the surface. We won’t try to do any digging today, just size up the ground. We can come back tomorrow with shovels and tools. We have all summer to do this, don’t forget, Duane told him. Oh, one more thing. Keep this between us, shall we? We don’t want others messing about and stealing our claim!

I don’t know, Duane. I got a bad feeling about doing this. I think we should leave it alone, Anthony said slowly. ’Sides, I don’t think we can find it now, so many years later.

Don’t be a bunch-quitter on me, Tony. This could be a real opportunity for us to make a name for ourselves. Besides, I told you, we’re only looking for the caves, we’re not going to go inside. I promise, Duane lied to him.

They started out walking up and down the water’s edge, looking up at the hillside for any signs of an unusual ground formation. Several times they thought they had found a cave, but it always turned out to be a false trail. They found several old horseshoes, two crudely chiseled arrow heads, and even a rusted out old pistol, along with three badger dens, two tortoise holes, but no cave. Three hours later, after combing the entire west side of the river, up and down both sides of the entrance to the bridge, both boys were hot, tired and disappointed. They had poked around every bush, tree and dirt patch on that side of the river.

Well this was a huge waste of time, I’d say! Anthony complained as he dusted off his hands and jeans. I sure thought it was on this side of the river, but I guess it wasn’t. So now we go home and forget about it, huh? Anthony asked hopefully.

Boy, you sure are slow today. No, we’re not going home. We’re going to cross the bridge and look on the other side, that’s where the treasure has to be, simpleton, Duane chided him. We are really ahead of the game, now that we know where to look, don’t you see?

I suppose that’s one way to look at it, Anthony said, enthusiasm noticeably absent from his voice. You want to walk across or ride over?

I feel really lucky today, Tony. How about we race over? Duane asked, then he pushed Anthony back and took off for the bridge, Anthony right behind him.

Duane was right, he was lucky. They found where the bank had been caved in within the first twenty minutes of their search. They saw a pile of rocks that didn’t seem level and began digging around. After digging just a few minutes, Anthony almost fell in when the ground gave way beneath him. Because it was too late in the day to try exploring now, they pulled up a hackberry bush and stuck it in the ground over the opening in the cave for a marker.

Tomorrow, we come back with a lantern and some feedbags, and a couple of shovels and we see what kind of treasures we can find. This is going to be good! Duane said excitedly.

I hope you know what you’re doing, ’cause I have a bad feeling about this, Duane.

Relax, worrywart. I’ve got this. There’s nothing can go wrong. Trust me. Let’s go home and get our things together. We’ll get an early start tomorrow and be done by dark, and heroes by bedtime, he promised.

The next morning, both boys met at the foot of the bridge with two flashlights, some extra batteries, an empty feedsack for carrying their treasure out in, and two shovels. Duane had also brought several sandwiches and two canteens of cold water and a big coil of rope. I figured you’d forget about eating, so I brought some extra feed, he said with smile as he handed Anthony two sandwiches and a canteen. Now let’s go find our treasure, Tony.

It only took ten minutes to walk across the bridge and find their marker. Once they found it, they looked around to make sure no one was watching them, and as soon they were not being observed, they began digging.

Duane, what are we looking for, exactly? I mean, how will we know if we find the cave? What if—

His words were cut off when he found it the hard way as the ground gave way beneath him and he fell five feet into the very cavern he had been looking for.

Duane’s stomach fell when he saw his friend drop out of sight into the hole.

Anthony landed on his feet when he hit the ground, but immediately fell over on his side as his feet rolled out from under him and he crashed to the ground. He suddenly felt a sharp pain in his side, and thought for a moment he had broken a rib, but when his breath returned within a few seconds, he knew he hadn’t. But he had fallen on something hard, that he knew for sure, and it wasn’t something flat like the floor was. It was something smooth, lumpy or bulbous, but not sharp. He couldn’t find his flashlight in the dark, as he had dropped it when he fell. He had heard it hit ground and knew it had rolled off, but in the dark he couldn’t find it. There was a narrow beam of sunlight coming through the hole but it was only hitting one spot on the floor and the flashlight wasn’t in it. He knelt down to feel around for his electric torch and just as he felt it at his fingertips, his other hand brushed over the object he had landed on when he fell. Once he touched it, he knew immediately what it was. As he picked up his torch, he tried to turn it on, but nothing happened.

Are you okay, Tony? Duane called down into the dark. Anthony’s lantern had gone out when he had dropped into the hole without warning. I mean, are you finished playing fireman and jumping into holes like a rabbit?

Yeah, I’m alright. Just scuffed up a little is all. Light the lantern and pass it down, mine went out, Tony called up.

If you wanted to go cave diving, seems to me you could have waited for me to lower a rope down there first, Duane said with a laugh.

When I get out of here, I think I’ll throw you in here just for the fun of it! Anthony yelled up from the darkness. Instead of laughing liker a hyena, why don’t you make yourself useful and bring down the flashlights? he called up to Duane.

In a minute. Here’s a flashlight, he called down as he dropped the electric torch into the hole, aiming for the one spot of light he could see. But I want to tie this rope off to a tree so we can climb out of there when we’re done before I come down there too, Duane called back as he tied the rope around the trunk of a big willow tree growing nearby. Once he was sure the rope would hold, he lowered himself down, hand over hand, until he was standing next to Tony.

Once he had his feet on solid ground again, Duane looked around the cavern, moving the flashlight in a slow path around the opening. All he saw was dirt, and more dirt, and a few rocks for good measure. There were no bones, no artifacts, no signs of anything human ever being there at any time. As he swung the flashlight around, he saw nothing of real interest, so on a whim, he held the light up under his chin, and turned to his friend.

Ohhhhhh, he moaned in his best scary voice. I’m a ghost and I’m looking for a victim to scare! he wailed.

Real funny, Duane, Tony said with dripping sarcasm, although there was a ghost of a smile on his lips. I think you’re a tad too solid to be a ghost. When you’re through playing around, maybe you’d like to take a look at something I found when I dropped in here, he suggested with a grin as he pointed to a spot on the ground.

Joking around forgotten, Duane aimed his light at the spot Tony was pointing to. At first he didn’t see anything special, but then his light picked it up.

There was a small cloud of dust, created when Tony fell into the cavern, and it was just now settling back to the floor. The ground was churned up a bit, where Tony had pulled himself to his feet and stood up again. There was a narrow beam of sunlight coming through the grass in the hole they had dug, and it was angled onto the dirt floor of the cavern. Duane could see the motes of dust swirling in that beam of sunlight, and he could see where the beam of light met the floor. And he could see the small piece of bone that was sticking up from the dirt floor.

Wow! You did good, Tony! Is that what I think it is? Duane asked excitedly.

It’s a bone, alright. I don’t know what kind or how old it is, but it’s a bone right enough. Give me a hand, let’s dig it out of there for a better look, Tony said.

Hang on, Tony. That bone’s not going anywhere. Let’s take a good look at this cave first. Maybe there’s something else down here we can use to dig it up. Or, maybe there’s something else valuable hidden somewhere. Anyway, I want to know how far back this thing goes, Duane countered.

Alright, I guess that won’t hurt none. Did you bring down the lantern? We need more light in here?

Yeah, boss. Here it is, Tony, Duane said as he scratched a safety match into life and lifting the glass globe, lit the lantern. As he lowered the globe, the light began to flood the cavern. The two boys looked around and saw the cave was much bigger than they had realized.

There cave was about ten feet high, high enough for Tony to stand up, and about twelve feet across. The floor appeared to slope downward towards the back of the cave, and ended at what seemed to be the far wall. There was no sign of any kind of human activity, no cuts and no holes in the rock face. There was no sign of moisture, indicating possible water flow behind or around the rocks, and the rock face was evenly coated in dust from who knew how long ago. And other than the one piece of bone in the floor, no debris on the floor either.

Not much here, Duane. Just a big hole in the ground and an empty cave, Tony said as he put his hand against the far wall as he explored the surface of it.

But Duane looked at it and he saw something only someone skilled with sleight-of-hand would see. The wall didn’t look like rock should look. There was something about it that didn’t look right to his trained eye, so he went over to it and began looking it over a lot closer.

What are you looking for, Duane? Tony asked as he watched Duane go over to the wall and start scrutinizing it inch by inch.

Something doesn’t look right here, Tony, Duane said as he scratched at a point on the wall. Do you have your pocketknife on you, Tony? Pass it over for a minute, he said, without taking his eye off the place he had been picking at.

Sure, here it is, he said as he placed it on Duane’s outstretched hand.

Okay, now step back about five feet at take a good look at this wall, Tony. Tell me what you see, Duane told him as he dug into the spot he had been working on with Tony’s pocketknife.

Not knowing what to look for, Tony stepped back and took a hard look at the wall. "I don’t see anything out of the ordinary, Duane.

Keep looking, was all Duane said as he continued to work on the spot that was gradually appearing beneath the knife point.

A few minutes later, Tony spoke again. I’m not sure what you want me to see, Duane, but I don’t see anything that shouldn’t be there, he said, confused.

Okay, I’m almost done here, Duane told him. He had purposefully kept his back to Tony, intentionally blocking Tony’s view of what he was working on. Tell me, Tony, when was the last time you saw a perfectly flat wall in a cave?" he asked conversationally.

Tony suddenly realized what Duane was referring to and began looking around the dimly lit cave once more. This time he was turning in a slow circle, looking at the walls and comparing each view to the last one. When he got back to where Duane was standing in front of his handiwork, Duane was now wearing a great big smile.

A fake wall? Tony asked in amazement.

A fake wall, Duane agreed, as he stepped aside to show what he had done. Behind him was the rock face wall, with a big patch missing, showing a wall of brick.

Tomorrow we come back with real tools, Tony. Tomorrow we’re going to break down that wall and see what’s behind it. I’ll bet we find something really unique and different…a real treasure behind that wall, Duane said excitedly.

I don’t mean to be a killjoy, Duane, but…. Tony began before he was cut off short by Duane’s excited response.

"Then don’t be one, Tony. I told you, that wall is was made for a reason, and that reason is to hide something of value from prying eyes. Well, we found it and we are going to get what’s behind there and we’ll be rich and famous! Don’t you want to be rich and famous?" Duane asked, puzzled by his friend’s sudden lack of interest.

What’s the matter with you? Tony asked as he looked at the wall of bricks.

Well, for one, I’m thinking about that story you told me. What about that? I heard you say that—

"For cryin’ out loud, Duane! It was just a damn story! You were probably right, that old Cap’n Klein was just tryin’ to scare me back then, to keep a small child from playin’ around under the bridge and the cliffs. He just didn’t want me to get hurt," Tony explained.

Yeah, probably. But what if he wasn’t just telling you a story, Tony? What if there really is something under the bridge? What if there is something valuable in that cave? Duane insisted.

Yeah, and what if those old-timers really did trap something under there? Something dangerous, I mean, and they built that wall to keep it in there for all time? Tony argued.

Well, just think about it Tony. If there was anything, which of course there wasn’t, don’t you think it would be dead by now? What was that, sixty to eighty years ago? Anything that old would certainly be dead by now, or so damn feeble you could knock it over with just a strong push. You’re the one heading for college in a year or two, aren’t you? Use your head, Tony, Duane said witheringly.

Tony thought about that for a minute, then he began to smile sheepishly. I guess you’re right, Duane. I never thought about it that way. Yeah, whatever it was is probably long dead by now, and nothing more than bones and dust. Hey! Maybe that bone I landed on was whatever that thing was. We should dig it up and look at it. Yeah, maybe we should go dig it up first? he asked hopefully.

Nah, we can do that anytime. What we need to do is go back and get the proper tools to break through that wall and see what’s on the other side! We gotta go get some picks so we can bust through that brick and get the prizes on the other side! Think about it, Tony! We’re gonna solve a mystery that’s been the talk of this area for longer than our parents have been alive! We’re gonna be famous! And probably rich, too! I can’t wait to see what’s back there! I just wanna bust through it as soon as we can! Duane was practically jumping out of his skin with excitement as he thought about what was waiting for him behind the wall.

We’ve been here for a while, maybe we should get some lunch and come back down and get that bone dug up first? Tony asked hopefully.

Sure thing, buddy. Let’s get some grub, eat those sandwiches and rebuild our energy. Then we can dig up that bone today and we’ll go at that wall the first thing tomorrow. By tomorrow night, we’ll be famous and then we’ll both get rich selling off what we don’t want and all the rest we’ll keep! Duane promised him excitedly, as he envisioned the glory to come when they broke through the wall.

Hey, down there! What are you two gopher’s doin’ down there? came a voice from up above their heads. It was somewhere near the hole they had come through, although each in their own fashion, and it was a familiar, but unwelcome voice.

Duane and Tony looked at each other, both sharing the same thought. How the hell did Rowdy Conrad find them, and how were they going to get rid of him?

Rowdy Ronnie Conrad. Ronald Conrad had been a thorn in their sides ever since the fourth grade. He had been held back one year, so he was older than both of them and about as bright as Duane’s pet hamster. Maybe. But he was stronger and meaner than any six of the biggest bullies in the school. Even the teachers hesitated to correct him or put a stop to his insolence and disrespect. Ronnie stood about five foot ten inches tall, and he weighed about one hundred and eighty pounds, all of it muscle. The only fat on Ronald, the other kids would say behind his back, where it was safer to say it, was between his ears. Ronald liked to make other kids look bad to make himself look better. He was a classic bully, picking on the weak to build himself up. He was a decent looking kid, with dark hair and an easy grin that some-how failed to reach those ice blue eyes, and his grin often was a prelude to someone getting hurt. Ronald had earned the nickname Rowdy in part because of his well-known propensity for getting into fights, and for his equally well-known habit of using any means available to win, regardless of the harm caused to his victim.

Rowdy’s not a giver, he’s a ‘taker’,. I don’t know why he’s here, but I know that he’s sure to try and take our treasure away from us, Duane said in a low voice. I don’t know what made him come looking for us, and it really doesn’t matter at this point. He’s here, we have to get rid of him without tipping him off to what we’ve found, Duane said conspiratorially.

I wonder… Tony said as he looked up at the opening above them.

You wonder what?

I wonder if we couldn’t use his strength to help us get through the wall. I know it’s a risk, but there’s two of us and we’re both smarter than he is, so…

So maybe we can use him and get him to help us without him getting the best of us. Maybe buy him off with some of the treasure, make him out to be a bigger man than he is, maybe even turn him around…You know what, Tony? That’s not a bad idea…if it works. It’s thin, but I’m willing to give it a try, Duane said slowly.

Let me do the talking here, Duane. He has no reason to doubt me.

Yeah, he’s likely to suspect a trick coming from me, Duane admitted. Okay, you do the talking, I’ll back your play.

Ronnie! Is that you up there? Tony called out, taking care to stay in the shadows.

Yeah, Picano, it’s me. You got McCathern down there with you? Rowdy called back. You two’s thicker than ticks on a hound, so I figured he was down there with you. What are you two doing down that rabbit hole?

Tony looked at Duane, who hesitated, then nodded his agreement. It’s a good thing you showed up when you did, Ron. We’re exploring a cave and we think we’ve found something interesting. We were going to look for you, we think we might need your help with it. Why don’t you come on down here with us? Or would you rather we come up and tell you all about it Tony asked in a friendly manner.

No, I don’t trust either of you two. I think you’re just fine right where you are, Rowdy called back smugly.

Just then Duane saw the rope start to wiggle, and he reached out to grab it, only to have the entire rope jerk out of his hand and go zipping up out of sight overhead.

What happened to the rope? Ron, throw the rope back down here, so we can climb out of this hole! Tony called out.

Don’t bother yelling, Picano. You neither, McCathern. I got the rope up here and that’s where it’s going to stay until I’m good and ready to send it back to you. I figured it would do you good to be down there for a spell, Rowdy laughed.

What do you want, Conrad? Duane called out as he looked around the cave.

What do I want? Funny you should ask that, McCathern. Yeah, I want something. I want you two to know what it’s like to be scared. Scared of what you can’t control. You two have been making my life miserable ever since you came to school. You’ve gotten in my way on everything I tried to do, and you always got all the praise. You never gave me a thought, or ever considered how you were making me feel! Now it’s MY turn to be the boss and there’s nothing you can do to stop me! he sneered with satisfaction.

Whatever you say, Ron. You just talked yourself out of any kind of a share in the money or the fame, Duane called out, apparently unconcerned. "When we get out of here, with all the treasure, just remember you had a chance to be part of it and to