The Patriot and the Red Coat V

A flashing GPS symbol showed where we were on the treasure map, but there was no fence next to us as the map showed.

"Oh Bobby, no," Linda said.  "Just like Grammy's story about searching for the chest of gold.  It was like a nightmare.  She couldn't find things that were on the map."

"Don't worry," I said.  "This wasn't a forest in 1780.  It was all farm fields.  Wooden fences have disappeared, but I bet the stone walls are still around."

"Bobby, you're right," Linda jumped up and hugged me.  She really didn't have to do that.

"Let's follow the GPS," I suggested.

It was tough moving through the undergrowth.  Oaks and maples provided cover for a variety of bushes, ferns, and small trees; everything a bright green.

It would have been easier for the French to cross the cleared fields.  That's probably why the map pointed to a spot away from any fences or stone walls.

"We're getting close," I said.  "Imagine if we find it."

"We'll be rich all our lives," Linda said.  "Maybe we could spend it all together."

Did she mean spending the money or our lives together?  Scary, but not too much.

"Should be right about here," I said.

"Try probing with my Grand Pa's walking stick," Linda said, handing me the rod she'd been carrying; polished wood with a metal tip.

I lifted it over my head, and shoved it into the soft earth.  Half way down it hit something with a ringing sound.

"Yea, hooray, we're rich," we hollered, as we jumped, holding hands, and swinging each other around.

The chest made us popular in the newspapers and on TV for a while.  But not millionaires.  A great start though, for the lives we've spent together.  Turned out that Linda meant both.