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the end of his arms. The riders got what they came for and left in a whirl of dust and mocking laughter. The old man suddenly burned with rage. He looked around for some way to vent his anger and finally kicked a bucket with all his might into the side of the hill. The impact disturbed the soil and what was exposed caught the old man’s eye. He walked over and knelt down for a closer look. What he had labored for so long was finally staring him in the face. The rock underneath was streaked with a multitude of gleaming yellow nuggets!
        “He let out a shout. ‘Yahoo! I’m rich! By cracky, I finally hit the mother lode!’
        “He stomped his feet and did a jig but a moment later a cruel realization settled him into quietness. He stared down at his newly discovered gold then looked over at the pick axe that lay nearby then his eyes moved sadly back to his dangling useless stumps. A moment later a small laugh escaped his lips then grew in intensity. What scarce remnants of sanity he possessed after all these years quickly left him as he bellowed forth in a never ending strain of insensible laughter which echoed throughout the canyon and remained on the desert winds for all to hear, so they say, forever and ever.”
        Buster looked over at Mike and rolled his eyes. Mike just chuckled. “That was one hell of a crazy story, partner, but all the same, I just think the heat got to me today, that’s all. I’ll tell you one thing though, me and Jedidiah have something in common … he was and I am starving!” Buster scooped up a plateful of beans and handed it to Mike then loaded his own plate.
        “You know what would go great with these beans right now Buster?” Mike said wiping bean juice from his chin. “A nice frosty mug of beer! Mmm… I’d give just about anything for a cold beer about now. How a’bout you, pard?”
         “Amen to that!” replied Mike, but all of a sudden out of the warm night air came a distinct clinking of glasses which was followed by a deep unsettling voice that asked… “Anything, fellas?”

It’s Under the Ice
     
    When the helicopter carrying the American Repatriation Team crested the costal ridge of Greenland, a dazzling sheet of white burst forth before them like the unfolding of a painter’s canvas. Last month’s jaunt saw the team excavating the remains of a B-29 bomber and its five man crew from deep in the heart of the Burmese jungle. On July, 5, 1945, that particular plane had been on return journey after dropping its payload over a manufacturing plant in Japan and at some point it disappeared off the radar screen. Since then, the mystery behind its location remained unsolved-- that is-- until recently.  Following up on a number of leads, the team finally located the wreckage buried under mounds of hardened soil and a tangle of thick green foliage. The team was able to recover what was left of the aircraft and crew for repatriation back to the United States.
    This was the type of work they did, year in and year out. It was honorable, over the top, and extremely fulfilling for the four-man team, but today they would be charting new territory and testing their skills in one of the most inhospitable environments on Earth. This particular excavation involved a small Air force search and rescue plane named, Albatross. In 1942 it was caught in a sudden ice storm over Greenland that lasted four days. Although the plane was never recovered, the pilot did manage to transmit their coordinates before they were completely buried and lost to the ages.
    The repatriation team was led by Colonel Stu Sutcliff, a grizzled 62-year-old ex–Navy fighter pilot with a shock of grey hair and steely glacier-blue eyes, the kind of eyes that carried with them the wizened look of experience.  After numerous adventures together, the other three members came to trust Stu’s instincts and decision-making skills and from the very beginning they affectionately referred to him as