|
 It
was half-past second coffee and darn near to French toast time and
it had been very quiet at the round table, that general headquarters
of the World Dilemma Think Tank.
“Heard something interesting yesterday,” said Herb. “Kids were
talking on the sidewalk and I couldn’t help but hear parts of it. I
had to stop and ask them about it, even if it seemed rude to them.
“Seems somebody tipped them off that there was a thousand dollars in
gold coins buried beneath the stepping stone going into Jenkin’s
cabin.”
Dud looked up, “But nobody knows where Jenkin’s cabin
is, and he’s gone now and we may never know.”
“That’s true enough. But there’s more. The other thing I heard from
them,” Herb said, “was that it was you who told them about the
gold.”
Dud looked up sheepishly. “Well ….”
“You did, didn’t you, Dud,” said Doc. “I can tell by the look on
your face.”
“Your fault, Doc. You remember you said a winter around here isn’t
complete without a hoax? Remember your fictional pet squirrel?” [to top of second
column] |
“Yeah,” said Steve. “Chipper.”
“So, since I decided to train a few local dogs into a dog team, I
thought this would be a good way to get started.”
“You lost me there,” said Steve.
“Well, with a couple dozen teenagers snowshoeing around looking for
Jenkins’s cabin, that ought to pack some nice trails for anyone with
a team of dogs.”
No one laughed until Doc started, and by then it was too late. Even
sides of bacon couldn’t quell the noise.
[Text from file received from
Slim Randles]
Brought to
you by Dogsled, A True Tale of the North, by Slim Randles, Now
available on Amazon.com.
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