Cut and Run 2 - Sticks and Stones

lower bunk, still shivering. “Fine,” he muttered as he unfolded himself and began getting out the makings of dinner.
    John sat forward on his bunk and smiled widely. “Well, as you probably know, West Virginia was just Virginia about a hundred and fifty years ago,” he started.
    Ty exhaled slowly. If this story started a hundred and fifty years ago, it was going to be a long night. He sat beside Zane, his back to the warm rocks of the chimney, and listened half-heartedly.
    “Back during the Civil War, the communities of western Virginia were sympathetic to the North, despite the state of Virginia’s allegiance to the South,” John was saying. “Most of the fighting took place in Virginia, and the western portion was a particularly tricky spot. The South didn’t want to lose it, and the North saw it as a strong position to attack Richmond from, populated with sympathizers who could offer help. The town of Romney in particular traded hands fifty-six times during the course of the war.”
    “This is why I slept through all my college courses,” Ty muttered to Zane under his breath.
    “Be nice,” Zane said softly. “He’s harmless.”
    “I don’t like being nice,” Ty reminded. Deuce cleared his throat pointedly as he handed out food.
    “During the spring of 1863, two years into the War, there was a skirmish in nearby Burlington,” John told them as his eyes danced with firelight. “A Confederate cavalry commander had captured twelve men of the Ringgold Cavalry. These men just happened to be the Cavalry’s foraging party. Legend says this foraging party had stumbled over something, something spectacular. You know what it was?” Ty and the others shook their heads in answer. “Neither does anyone else, but the best guess is that it was the long lost fortune of Lord Fairfax, stolen from him in the 1700s.”
    “Who the hell is Lord Fairfax?” Ty whispered to Zane, who shrugged and closed his eyes.
    “Stolen from him?” Deuce asked, whether to be polite or out of true interest Ty couldn’t guess.
    “By one of his land agents. Collected fees and rents that he never turned over to Fairfax. Rumor says it was hidden away until after any investigations could be done and the location was lost.”
    “Lost and spent sound a whole lot alike,” Ty muttered under his breath. Zane jabbed him in the ribs, and Ty gave a soft grunt as he leaned closer to Zane and tried not to laugh.
    “Some people believe that Union foraging party found it all those years later,” John was saying.
    “And that’s the treasure that’s supposedly buried up here?” Earl asked doubtfully. “Why didn’t the Union army take it?”
    “They did. That foraging party, they spirited it away, dumping out their supplies and using the sacks for the gold and silver they found. They even left their ammunition behind, blinded to the danger by the treasure.”
    “That explains how they were captured in a skirmish and not killed fighting,” Ty muttered as he drew a circle in the dust next to him. Zane elbowed him again gently, and Ty bit his lip against a smile.
    “When the Confederates went through their supplies, you can imagine what they thought. There was arguing over whether they should keep the money for themselves or send it to Richmond to finance the upcoming Gettysburg Campaign. They moved on to Purgitsville, where they themselves were attacked. The money changed hands again—”
    “Before any official reports could be made about the money, of course,” Ty interjected cynically. There were never any written records to accompany these stories.
    “Of course,” John agreed happily. “The Federals were then occupying Romney, and when the money reached the town, it was decided that the position wasn’t secure enough to keep it there. As often as the town changed hands, you can see why.”
    Ty scrubbed his hand over his face. This was what being nice to people got him. Zane nudged him in the side yet again, and Ty was hard-pressed not to poke him back.
    “The residents of Romney had been gradually taking their own valuables up into the mountains and hiding them, trying to keep them safe from the looting of the soldiers passing through. The man in charge of the Federal brigade, though, he had a sweetheart in Romney. The woman told him of the secret stash the town had hidden away, and one night just forty-eight hours before the town was attacked again, the Federals snuck all that gold and silver up into the mountains and