Hance was caught up in regaling Ivy with another tale of treasures. “In the early 1800s, Spanish prospectors were returning to Mexico City with eight mules laden with gold. Not long after they started out on their journey, Ute warriors chased after them. In order to outrun the Utes, the Spanish had to lighten their caravan. Even though they quickly hid their gold, only three men escaped the Utes and made it to Santa Fe. Later, they tried to return for the gold but never could find it.”

Ivy watched Hance with rapt attention.

“Some say the Utes took it all away,” Gordo interjected.

“Exactly.” Hance didn’t break his attention from Ivy. “They say the Utes moved it up here into Pike’s Forest and marked the spot with a pile of rocks in the form of a rattlesnake.”

“A rattlesnake?” Ivy’s face conveyed her growing excitement.

“That’s what me and Otis have been looking for.” Hance directed a nod toward the hefty dentist standing on his other side, as quiet and shy as always, but who was having another coughing fit from the smoke. “We’ve found rock piles near Snyder Creek. And some near Rock Creek. But nothing in the form of a rattlesnake.”

“Reckon you’ll be searchin’ awhile.” Gordo spoke derisively. “Lookin’ for a pile of rocks in Pike’s Forest is like lookin’ for a piece of hay in an alfalfa field.”

Several others chortled, while a couple of the men offered suggestions to Hance and Otis on where they’d seen snakelike rock patterns in the towering mountains to the east that made up part of Pike’s Forest.

Once upon a time, the hunt for treasure might have lured Jericho. But that lure had died right alongside Nash the day he’d fallen to his death. In fact, the lure was long gone, replaced by the cold, hard reality of life. He was too practical to waste time chasing after whimsical dreams when he could chase after crooks who needed to face the consequences of their crimes.

Gordo took a swig from his bottle of whiskey and then stared at Hance as if trying to place him. “I swear I’ve seen Hance before when I was living in Texas.”

With a neat mustache and sideburns, Hance’s unassuming appearance was like that of most of the businessmen in the area. Even so, Jericho hadn’t ruled him out as a suspect yet. “Heard he’s originally from Virginia,” Jericho said casually, “but lived in California during the war.”

“Lived? More like hightailed to avoid the fighting.” Men like Gordo who’d seen action during the war didn’t hold much respect for those who’d chosen to get away from the conflict, even when they admitted to running off themselves at the end.