“The gunslinger who shot Black Jack swears he took a gold coin off the man. During the poker game, Black Jack was said to have told the players it came from the stage robbery. Used it to up the ante on the last hand and won.”

“Where’s the coin now?” Maggie asked.

“In a museum in downtown Boise.”

“Wait a second,” Silas said. “Aren’t these mistakes worth more than the actual currency? Like the stamp with the airplane printed upside down.”

“You’re not as dumb as you look, my boy,” Wallace said with what could almost be mistaken for affection. “A mismade coin is called a mule. And that particular mule is valued at around fifty-five thousand dollars today.”

Silas let out a low whistle.

“And that’s the only coin ever recovered?” Maggie asked, eyes flicking to the mantel.

“The one and only. None of the other coins or bars ever showed up in any law-abiding establishments. People still go hunting in the canyons looking for the treasure today.”

He unloaded another stack of photocopies. Each one was a news article about people going in search of the gold. Silas and Maggie paged through. The most recent article was from two years ago when a group of geology master’s students, armed with commercial metal detectors and GPS systems, spent two weeks scouring for gold in and around the silver mine where the coach was found.

“None of them got lucky,” Silas observed. “And some of them were downright unlucky.” He tapped the copy of an article about an unnamed young woman who disappeared in the canyons just south of Kinship in the late 1800s after telling her stagecoach companions she was going to find the gold.

“By the by, you owe me ninety cents for the photocopies.” Wallace sniffed.

“I think we can swing that,” Silas said dryly.

“First things first,” Maggie said. “If this coin is from the robbery, what do we do now? Are there lost-treasure authorities we’re supposed to report this to?”

“If you want my advice, which you should,” Wallace said loftily, “we need to get that coin out of that mantel. If it matches Black Jack’s coin, then we go from there. Either someone brought that coin into Campbell’s family’s jewelry store and he recognized it or he came across the treasure. If it’s the latter, there could be other clues within these walls.”

“I’d imagine insurance was paid on the loss,” Silas guessed. “So who would the gold belong to?”

Wallace shrugged. “Whoever owns the land most likely.”

“Wallace, would you be willing to talk about this, share what you know about the robbery on camera?” Maggie asked.

“Like on the Antiques Roadshow?” He schooled his face into disapproval, but Silas heard a note of interest in the man’s creaky voice.

“Something like that,” she said with a smile.