Getting the trunk out of the sand, then through water and up onto the bank proved almost more than the two young men could handle. Jason had rope in the back of the truck. Good thing too. Without it they wouldn't have managed to get it up out of the sand and free to drag to the river's bank. Once up onto the bank, they laid back soaking wet, muddy, sandy and exhausted. Upon catching their breath they pulled the truck under the big cotton tree. "Wow, this sucker's heavy" exclaimed Willis. Kneeling together they wiped away the remaining sand and muck to read the few legible letters printed on the lid of the Wells Fargo size and style trunk.
Imprinted on the lid of the sand-colored canvas covered box was barely legible badly faded black letters: xxxxxxO Dx MxxxxO" (x representing an illegible letter).
"Well" said Jason, "I have enough high school Spanish to suspect the D is the first letter of De which means of and the last word would be Mexico. As I think about it, the Spanish word for bank is banco. So my guess is part of the stenciled name is Bank of Mexico. Unbelievable!. .Something or other Bank of Mexico".
"Maybe Federal bank of Mexico? asked Willis.
"Can't be!” answered Jason, "the space between the letters doesn't fit Bank of Mexico. Besides, what in the world would a Mexican bank trunk be doing here, for God's sake? We're a pretty far piece from the border.” "Who cares, who knows, who gives a shit?" replied Willis. "It's here. Let's open 'er up."
"Whoa, wait, wait," cautioned Jason, "the padlock is really old and badly rusted. We'd have to bust it off. Look, it's really an antique. In fact the trunk looks like an antique. This could be valuable just as it is and we'd destroy its value if we damage it. And think about this: if it is a bank chest and is full of money, the money could be destroyed by the water over time. And if it's good money, we'd get a reward for our honesty. If there's no money, we still get credit for being honest about bring it in. It could be a win-win, either way."
Jason continued "Let's take it to the bank in town and have old man Hooper tell us if it's an antique or has more value just as it is or forced open."
"Well" drawled Willis, "Trust me, once Hooper knows what we got, the whole world will know. Me, I'd rather bust'er open without anyone else knowing about it. If it's got money, gold or silver we just divvy it up and don't tell no one. Then we throw the trunk back where we found it, in the creek. No one will ever know. Just between us, ya know?"
"It's not ours" said Jason, speaking in a cautionary voice.
"Bull shit!" retorted Willis. "Losers weepers, finders keepers."
"My dear little Willis, sometimes the folks that find things and pocket them are considered crooks. You're not a crook, I'm not a crook. Mom and Dad would die if the town looked at us as crooks. You know damn well if you find something that has an owner, keeping it without trying to return it is wrong. The way I see it, we should make an honest effort to find the owner. It's called good-faith or due diligence or something like that. We really got to do that. Really."
"How the hell are we going to find some owner in Mexico?" exclaimed Willis.
"You're getting ridiculous. If you find a silver bracelet marked "Made in Mexico" doesn't it make more sense the owner is here, not there? Come-on. The point I'm trying to make is let's not be secretive about this. Better we're above board and honest. Let the chips fall where they may."
After an awkward silence, Willis said, "Well, I think you're wrong, but you're probably right."
They reloaded the cooler and fishing gear, wrestled the trunk up into the bed of the truck, drove back through the Miller field, through the gate and headed towards town and the bank. They were headed for Mr. Hooper's advice, a townsman greatly respected.
The truck pulled up in front of the small red brick bank and entered through the double glass doors. Mrs. Snavely was behind the counter, as usual. She looked over her glasses and recognized the brothers. "Afternoon" she said. "Good afternoon", replied, Jason. "Mister Hooper in?" "Sorry, he's over at the Red Rooster."
"RED ROOSTER?" they both exclaimed in unison.
"Oh, don't get your britches in a knot," she answered. You boys know Danfield bought Clyde out and the bar, it's in escrow. Mr. Hooper is required to validate the inventory."
"Gottcha" said Jason and the boys left the bank and got back in the truck and drove right over to the bar, just four blocks away.
Jason drove onto the gravel parking lot and parked next to Mr. Hooper's car. The other 6 vehicles parked up front and facing the entrance to the bar were all pick-ups.
"How do you think we should do this?" asked Jason. "Should one of us go in and fetch Mr. Hooper, have him come out and look at the trunk, or both go in, leave the trunk here. Or maybe take it in with us?"
"I'll go get him" answered Willis, "you stand guard. It's not that we don't trust every soul in this town, but I'm not for leaving a million dollars, or pesos, sitting alone."
As Willis was entering, Jimmy Hicks pulled alongside in his always muddy beat-up truck and piled out. "Hey Jason, he said, " Saw you guys pulling out of the Miller field. Fishing on the old Skunk?"
"Yep."
"Any luck?" "Yeah, you know", rotating his hand at the wrist like opening a round knob on a door.
"Good. Let me buy you a beer. c'mon" as he started to head for the entrance.
"Thanks, Jimmy. I'll join you in a bit. I'm waiting for Willis and Mr. Hooper right now", said Jason.
"Mr. Hooper! What ya waiting for Mr. Hooper for? Is he going to foreclose on your trailer?" said Jimmy, laughingly, and with his curiosity piqued by the thought of Jason and Mr. Hooper talking together, he wanted to know more
Jason was now becoming a little nervous and wished he hadn't mentioned the banker's name. "No no", Jason said, almost with a dry mouth at this point. "We found an old box which we thought might be an antique and just wanted Mr. Hooper's opinion." "Mr. Hopper aint no expert on antiques. Why him?"
Jimmy had now reached Jason's truck and with his hands on the top of the closed tailgate, looked in and asked, "That the box?"
"Yeah", said Jason who was now wishing he was anywhere in the world except in front of the Red Rooster.
At this point Willis, followed closely by Mr. Hooper, arrived at the truck and Hooper also put his hands on the tailgate, scrutinized the trunk briefly and then said aloud, "yes that's an old bank trunk used through-out the banking industry many years ago. In those days no one called it a trunk; it was a coffer. If you read your history about old stage coach days you'll see the chest or trunk containing money was always referred to as a coffer."
Both Jason and Willis' heard the spoken words "trunk containing money" their hearts sank. The cat was out of the bag! Neither knew what to say next or who should do any talking. After an awkward silence, Jason asked, "When you say banking industry, does that mean U.S. industry?"
"No. The financial industry is international in nature. No one monetary system stands on its own."
"So a trunk