Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 95436 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 477(@200wpm)___ 382(@250wpm)___ 318(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95436 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 477(@200wpm)___ 382(@250wpm)___ 318(@300wpm)
“So, wait,” Walter said. “Was the Matt guy Sundance?”
“No. Sundance Kid was Harry Longabaugh. He was from Philadelphia. Like every other boy around that time, he dreamed about going west. He moved to Colorado, was a ranch hand until a freak storm killed off ninety percent of the cattle and the jobs, and got caught stealing a horse, a saddle, and a gun outside Sundance, Wyoming.”
“So, when did he hook up with Cassidy?” Bradley asked.
“In 1896,” Leo answered, and met Lily’s eyes across the fire. She’d wondered how much of it all he remembered. How much he heard during his short time at Wilder Ranch or picked up from the books Duke kept around. She remembered lying on Leo’s stomach, the two of them reading together in bed with a fire crackling nearby.
She also remembered setting her book down one night, coaxing Leo’s out of his hand, and losing herself in him for hours.
As if he was remembering it, too, Leo blinked, shuttering his thoughts. “They met on the Outlaw Trail,” he finished.
“Is it true they never shot anybody?” Walter asked.
Lily nodded. “Didn’t need to. They slipped money to people who were in danger of losing their farms to the banks. So, instead of turning the gang in to the police, these people fed them, kept their horses, lied for them.”
Bradley whistled, low and impressed, poking at the fire with a long stick.
“Yeah, and the banks and railroads were pissed,” Leo added. “They got the Pinkertons involved, and they had a ton of agents and informants all over the country.”
Walter looked genuinely worried. “Oh no.”
“It all went sideways when Butch and his guys robbed a Union Pacific train in Wilcox, Wyoming,” Lily said. “They blew up the car with dynamite and within twenty-four hours nearly every man on the Pinkerton payroll was on the hunt. But they weren’t just scouting the trails. The Pinkertons tracked down every serial number on every note Butch’s gang had stolen and passed the info to banks, railroads, hotels, and general stores. Reward for his capture was four thousand dollars. Then five thousand. Eight thousand. In 1899, Butch knew it was a matter of time before they’d be caught.” She paused to glance around the campfire. Nobody moved.
“And?” Bradley said urgently.
“Story is that they hid their money somewhere along the Outlaw Trail,” Lily said, “knowing that if they spent a single dollar it’d lead straight to them. Then they fled to Argentina.”
“Wait a minute.” Bradley threw a twig into the fire. “In the movie, they both died in a shootout there. Are you saying they hid that money, but never came back for it?”
“Some people think so.”
Walter leaned forward to catch her eye. “And you think your dad found it, and instead of cashing in, he hid it all over again?”
“Either that,” Lily said, shrugging, “or he’s leading whoever he’d planned to give the journal to to the location of the original treasure.” She bent her head, chewing her lip as she thought about how either of these possibilities made her feel sick to her stomach. “He sold our land in Wyoming and probably expected to live off that profit, so depending on when—and if—he found Butch Cassidy’s cash, he might not have ever expected to need it. Duke used to say, ‘Adventure over stuff, kid.’ For my birthday he would make me solve a cipher in order to find a pack of gum he’d wrapped or take me on a hike and quiz me on landmarks and tell me knowledge was my gift.”
Bradley looked around the campfire. “Someone Google how much the Wilcox robbery was.”
“Google?” Nicole said. “With what? This rock and a fork?”
“They stole about sixty thousand dollars,” Lily said, waving them off. “I’m sure they spent some of it somewhere, so let’s say fifty thousand, give or take.”
“That’s it?” Walter said. “Terry was going to kill us all for fifty thousand?”
“But that was in 1899, right?” Bradley asked, looking around to each of them for confirmation. “It’d be worth way more now.”
“Plus,” Lily said quietly, “that was just one holdup.”
Leo stared at her. “How much did Duke think they hid?”
“Altogether? About a hundred and fifty thousand dollars.”
“A hundred and fifty thousand dollars in 1899,” Bradley said, awed. “And I bet some of the gold coins are so rare it’s almost unheard of. That’d be worth millions in today’s money.”
“At least ten million, Duke thought,” Lily said, eyes on the fire.
Walter blinked. “It’s funny because it sounded like you said ten million.”
“She did,” Leo replied, and everyone went very, very still.
“Holy shit.” Bradley stood and began pacing the camp. “Holy shit.”
Nicole stepped into his path. “Sit down. I still don’t trust you.”
He immediately complied.
“What’s wild,” Walter said slowly, “is that Terry knew to bring a gun and GPS and all that stuff with him. And how he was so into this treasure hunt.” He looked over at Bradley, his expression perplexed. “But wasn’t it your year to plan this trip?”