Chapter 2
It was Friday, August 18th, 2006, and John's obsession for old western outlaws was still burning inside him.
At first, Angie thought his obsession, interest as John described it, in old western outlaws was cute, but it now started to wear on her. She tolerated his passion, hoping John would grow out of it soon. But it was beginning to wear on her.
One restaurant that John would frequently take Angie was called the Outlaw Steak House where the interior walls were filled with memorabilia, old photos, and news articles on famous western outlaws and lawmen.
It was early evening on that Friday.
John took Angie to the Outlaw Steak House, and they sat in a booth. But this night, Angie appeared annoyed while they ate their steak dinners.
"John, this place is dumb, and I'm sick and tired of coming here! Why can't we eat somewhere nice and romantic for a change?" Angie said, then sipped on her iced tea.
"Are you kidding Angie? Look at all the cool history this place has to offer," he replied, stabbing his fork at a photo of Bart Stone on the wall of their booth. "Like Bart Stone over here. Legend has it that he and his partner Charlie Chandler shot and killed Town Marshal Clint Bartley after they robbed a bank. They later buried some loot in the Superstition Mountains and left the area. Nobody heard from them again, and it's still believed their loot is still buried somewhere in those mountains. My grandfather wanted to find that treasure, but," John said.
Angie interrupted him. "Enough! You should be working on a college degree for a better paying job." "And what's with that stupid necklace?"
John reached in his shirt and pulled out his bullet on a chain. "What's wrong with it? It's a bullet that came from Billy the Kid's pistol right after he was killed. My grandfather gave it to me when I was eight years old," John said while he admired his bullet.
Angie rolled her eyes. "I'm surprised you don't have his dirty long johns hanging above your bed. Listen, I hate to change this interesting subject, but since I came here, you owe me."
John frowned, as he knew exactly where she wanted to after this place. "I hate the mall!" he quietly said to himself.
Angie gave him a dirty look," as she heard his comment.
They finished their dinner and John drove Angie to the Paradise Valley Mall in his 1995 Mustang, which was in dire need of a paint job and Bondo work.
John was totally bored while Angie dragged him by the hand through the Paradise Valley Mall.
They strolled through Dillard's, and John paced totally bored while Angie looked at the woman's clothes.
They left Dillard's and walked around the mall. Angie stopped at Macy's and John cringed. Then his eyes sparkled when he saw the Western Antique's store with a grand opening sign in the window.
"I'll tell you what, I'm going to check out that new store while you go in Macy's," John said while he looked at the antique store.
Angie saw the store and rolled her eyes. "Don't blow all your money on worthless crap," she replied. "I'll meet you outside Macy's in thirty minutes," Angie added.
A quick kiss and she walked off to Macy's and John strutted off to the antique store.
John entered the Western Antique's store and loved the sight of all the old western junk all over the place. He saw old western clothes, cowboy hats, wanted posters and etc.
John was in heaven while he walked around and admired the old western junk in the store.
Something caught his eye, and he walked over and stopped.
He saw a small old faded wood chest with the initials "PY" engraved on the top. The label on the chest stated that the contents inside were guaranteed to be from around the 1880s and earlier. There was something about this chest that compelled John to check it out. The top of the chest creaked when John opened it. He peeked inside and looked through the cellophane covering that prevented people from stealing the contents.
Inside the chest, he saw an old journal from Peter Yoemans.
He saw an old Weekly Phoenix Herald newspaper. He saw an old worn-out leather holster.
He saw numerous dime novels and some other old newspapers from the Phoenix area.
He had to have this chest!
John smiled while he grabbed the chest and placed it under his left arm. He walked around the store and admired the other junk.
John walked by numerous cowboy hats on display on a shelf.
There were all advertised as being remakes from the 1870 – 1890 era. John picked up and looked at a black Stetson. He placed it on his head, and it was a perfect fit. He walked off with it.
He walked around the store and saw old vintage cowboy shirts and pants.
John saw a glass counter by the cash register, and his eyes sparkled again. He rushed over to the counter.
He stopped at the glass counter and placed the chest and hat on top of it.
He looked inside the counter and saw numerous old pistols.
He drooled at the sight of the firearms.
A salesman walked over to John behind the counter.
"Do you see one you like?" the salesman asked John.
"Oh yeah, John replied while he looked at all the pistols for sale. "I like that Colt Peacemaker," he said while he pointed at it.
"Excellent choice," the salesman said then unlocked the door at the rear of the case. He slid the door to the side, reached in and removed the pistol, and he handed it to John.
John looked the Colt over. He aimed it and thoughts that pistol could have once belonged to an outlaw went through his mind. He smiled. "I'll take it," he said then handed the pistol back to the salesman.
He walked over to the cash register. He scanned in the items.
"That'll be one thousand, eight hundred thirty dollars and seventy-eight cents," the salesman said.
John removed his checkbook from his back pocket. He wrote out a check for that amount and left him with only twenty dollars in his checking account. But he didn't care, as he now owned a piece of old western history.
Ten minutes later, John walked out of the antique store, proud of his newly purchased junk.
He walked over and stood outside the entrance to Macy's with the wooden chest under his one arm and a shopping bag that contained the cowboy hat and pistol in his other hand. He waited for Angie to come out of Macy's.
Fifteen minutes later, Angie walked out of Macy's with two shopping bags. She bought two blouses and one sundress. She saw John with the chest and shopping bag. She eyed the antique store then looked back at John.
"Did you bought more crap for your apartment?" she asked.
John smiled and patted the wooden chest.
"How much did this cost you?" Angie asked.
"One thousand, eight hundred thirty dollars," John said under his breath, as he really didn't want Angie to hear him.
"How much?" Angie said, unsure she heard correctly.
"One thousand, eight hundred thirty dollars," John said louder.
"Why in the world would you waste what little money you have on junk?" Angie said, then walked away and rolled her eyes.
John could care less. He knew she would forget about it as she always did.
Later that day, John sat on his couch in his apartment. It had all kinds of old western junk on the wall - pictures of outlaws, copies of old newspaper articles, etc. John looked at his new chest, cowboy hat, and pistol that lay on his coffee table.
On TV played the Young Guns movie.
John looked at the carved "PY" on top of the chest. It looked like it was carved with a knife.
He got curious and reached for a book at the other end of the coffee table. It was his grandfather's college textbook he used when he taught history. It was called "Old Western Outlaws" and had short biographies of all the outlaws from 1800 –1900 complete with pictures if available.
John opened up the book and looked at all the outlaws with a last name in the Y's. He didn't find any outlaws with the "PY" initials.
"He must not be an outlaw," John said quietly to himself.
He opened up the chest and remembered the cellophane that covered it. He got off the couch and went into the kitchen.
He came back with a knife and quickly cut the cellophane away.
He reached inside and removed the diary for Peter Yoemans. He placed it down on the coffee table.
He reached inside and removed the old Phoenix Herald newspaper. He placed the newspaper down on the coffee table.
He reached inside and removed a couple of dime novels on outlaws. One of them was on outlaw Bart Stone. He placed them down on the coffee table.
John picked up the newspaper and read it, and it was dated September 25th, 1884. He saw the article titled "Marshal Clint Bartley Killed."
He read the news article and then saw a photograph of Clint standing out in front of the Oak Creek Marshal's Office.
"Bart Stone, Charlie Chandler, and Jimmy Templeton were chased by Marshal Bartley and a six-man posse after they robbed the stagecoach in route from Oak Creek to Phoenix.
They chased Bart and Charlie into the Superstition Mountains, and a gun battle pursued not too far from Miners Needle. It is believed Bart fired the fatal shot that killed Marshal Bartley. Bart, Charlie, and Jimmy slipped away into the desert," John read the article out loud then laid the newspaper down on the coffee table.
John picked up the dime novel on Bart Stone, and he opened it up.
"Bart Stone was born around eighteen fifty-three in a farm in Texas. He was the youngest son as his brother Willy was older. His father was a drunk and would beat Bart in an attempt to keep the young lad on the straight and narrow path," John read out loud then laid the book on the coffee table, as he already knew this information.
John picked up his pistol, and he looked it over. He aimed it and pretended to shoot it. He laid the pistol back on the coffee table.
He picked up Peter Yoemans diary. He flipped and scanned through the pages; then he stopped at a page of interest.
"I talked today with Betty Grayson, now seventy-eight years old and she's the sister of outlaw Charlie Chandler. She told me on Charlie's deathbed, he told her Bart buried their loot in a cave. It was a cave that scared him to death. But she didn't know where this cave was located. She stated that she didn't approve of Charlie's outlaw ways. March 12th, nineteen thirty-eight," John read out loud from the diary.
John's eyes widened with joy after he read that page and was so glad he bought this chest. He flipped and scanned through some more pages. He stopped at another page of interest.
"I finally located some kin of Bart Stone. His older brother, Willy Stone, eighty-four years old, was a retired preacher and also disapproved of his younger brother being an outlaw. He told me that Bart drew a map to the location of some buried loot in a cave called Crazy Hole. Willy let me look at the map, but I couldn't copy it. I had to quickly redraw it from memory in my journal immediately after my meeting with him. Willy also stated he believed the map to be one of Bart's many lies. September 15th, nineteen forty-two," John read out loud from the diary.
John noticed that the next page was ripped out of the journal. "Rats, he ripped out the map," John said disappointed.
He flipped and scanned through some more pages. He stopped at another page of interest.
"I hiked in the Superstition Mountains with the treasure map I drew from meeting Willy. I couldn't find the cave called Crazy Hole. October 2nd, nineteen forty-two," John read out loud from the diary.
He flipped and scanned through some more pages. He stopped at another page of interest.
"Paid some old Indian twenty dollars, and he told me the location of the cave called Crazy Hole. I know that's where Bart's loot is buried, so I'm going to keep it my secret. February 16th, nineteen forty-three," John read out loud from the diary.
John's heart raced as he found all of Peter's entries interesting. He also was saddened that his grandfather didn't discover this information before he died.
He flipped and scanned through some more pages. He stopped at another page of interest.
"I learned more about this Crazy Hole from an old, old Indian. He said to go in the cave, and that right is the way. And if you say a particular month, day and year, before entering another tunnel inside Crazy Hole you will arrive there. I think I know what that means," John read out loud from the diary.
He turned the page and found another entry.
"I finally located the cave called Crazy Hole. I found a dead end. I remembered what that Indian said, and I mentioned a month, day, and year. I entered a tunnel to the right. I discovered something so amazing. So amazing I can't write it down, as I want this to be my secret. A secret that can make me richer than Bart's buried loot. March 7th, nineteen forty-three," John read out loud from the diary.
That was the last entry in Peter's journal but noticed that another page was torn out. He closed the journal and laid it down on the coffee table.
"I guess he meant he knew the locations of other buried loot," said John.
He looked back at the chest. Something felt odd as he stared at the chest, and he looked inside.
He felt inside the chest then he looked at the outside.
He looked inside and noticed the bottom was made from different wood than the rest of the chest. It wasn't as faded as the rest of the chest.
He stuck his hand inside and measured the distance from the bottom of the chest to the top with his arm. He used his same arm and measure the bottom of the chest to the top on the outside. There was a three-inch difference, and that created some suspicion.
There's a false bottom. John thought to himself. He reached inside and tried to pry the bottom up, but it wouldn't budge.
John got off the couch and carried the chest to the middle of his living room.
He dropped the chest, and it hit the floor. John raised his cowboy boot, stomped on the chest, and some of the wood cracked. He raised his boot again and stomped harder on the chest. More wood cracked, and the chest came apart. He saw amongst the broken pieces of wood, was an old and yellowish in color and faded folded piece of paper. He noticed that this paper was the torn out page from Peter's journal.
John reached down and removed the paper from the broken pieces of wood. He unfolded the paper, and his eyes widened in joy.
"I can't believe it!" John said in shock in what he held in his hands.
The paper was a map to Bart Stone buried treasure, so it stated. A trail was drawn on the map. Landmarks were drawn as the trail winded through the hand-drawn mountains. The path stopped near a mountain. A black circle is drawn and indicated a cave with the words Crazy Hole. Then the trail went inside the cave. A priest was drawn with an "X" over another tunnel to the right of it with a skull and crossbones by it.
John looked like he was in heaven while he kissed the treasure map then did a little victory dance around his living room.
John stopped his victory dance and looked at the map.
"Where the hell is Crazy Hole?" he said while he studied the map. John's eyes widened as he had an idea of how he could learn more about the crazy hole.
He glanced at his watch. "Too late," he said and decided to go in the morning.
It was Saturday morning, August 19th, 2006.
John woke up, had his breakfast and some coffee.
He waited until it was time to leave
It was time. He ran to his door and left his apartment with his treasure map.
John ran through the parking lot to his Mustang. He jumped in his car, started it up, and drove off through the lot.
John raced his Mustang down the Phoenix streets and eventually arrived at the Apache Junction Public Library and parked his car.
He rushed inside the library before it closed in twenty minutes.
He rushed over to the magazine section and smiled with relief when he saw Mel Lincoln while he read a magazine on a couch.
John rushed up to Mel with a huge smile. "Hey, Mel. I was hoping you would be in here in the library," John said while he sat down next to him.
"John, I haven't seen you in a long time. Do you want to hear more stories?" Mel said and laid his magazine on the couch.
"Actually I was wondering if you could tell me the location of a place called Crazy Hole," John replied while he showed Mel the treasure map.
Mel looked at the map and got bothered. "Here, we go again. You white people always trying to find the easy way in life," Mel said.
"But its Bart Stone buried loot! Do you know how many people for the past hundred years have been trying to find it? And now I have a map. I can use this for my book," John cried out, excited.
"How do you know it's real?"
"My gut instinct tells me it's real," John said.
"You can't go inside crazy hole. It's way too dangerous," Mel replied.
"So there might be some bats or other critters. I'm not scared," John said with confidence.
"I don't know," Mel told John still defiant about giving up any information.
"Come on, Mel. You never refused me information in the past. This is important to me. Something my grandfather also searched for," John said with a gleam in his eyes. "Please!"
Mel looked at John. "Okay. But it's not my fault if things get strange," Mel said.
John looked extremely curious. "What do you mean by strange?"
"I'll tell you, but you can never tell anybody about Crazy Hole."
"You have nothing to worry about. Nothing bad will happen to me. It will all be good, and I'll keep it to myself," John said while he hoped Mel would finally reveal the much-needed information.
"There was a white man way back in forth-three that disappeared while he searched for Bart's buried loot. He left behind a thirteen-year-old son and a wife. They never found that man," Mel said. "Then that thirteen-year-old boy grew up and went into Crazy Hole, oh around nineteen fifty. He came out crazy, and they locked him up in a nuthouse for many years," Mel added in an attempt to stop John with what he felt was foolishness.
"Don't worry Mel. Like I said before, nothing will happen to me. I won't come out crazy, and they won't lock me up in a nuthouse," John pleaded.
Mel looked at John's eyes and knew this kid wouldn't give up and would probably learn the location from another old fool.
"It's a cave located near the base of Miners Needle, at the southern part of that rock. But beware, my great grandfather believed if you entered, you'll come out loco with crazy talk of a strange land and people," Mel finally said.
That last statement made John even more curious about Crazy Hole.