“The Sentinels of San Saba” by H.J. Hill

September 16, 2012

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Never betray an old friend, especially the one who knows where the treasure is buried. [17 min]


No two ways about it, Rake was a gifted liar. That was not the only thing that his partner, Tophe, liked about him. Rake attracted riches the way fresh manure attracted flies. If gold and silver could have stuck to a magnet, that magnet would have been Rake. So when Rake disappeared, sneaking out of town in the dark, alone, without a word, Tophe lost more than his partner and best friend. He lost a fortune.

Hours after daylight, Rake stood on a hardscrabble hill, shaded his eyes with his hat brim tilted in his hand, and squinted at the horizon. The Lost San Saba Mine. It was out there, somewhere in front of him, buried in the earth like the bones of so many who had searched for it and failed.

Jim Bowie searched for it but never found it, though not for lack of trying. The Comanche came nigh to killing him during his hunt. They didn’t care if white men found treasure. They only cared if white men found it on their range. A few years later, the Mexicans killed Bowie at the Alamo, saving the Comanche the trouble of finishing him off themselves. And the silver mine still lay hidden, still whispering its call to any foolish enough to answer.



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