Entry #16

Bait
by Scott Simpson


“Where was it?”

“Right beneath the tree, buried maybe a foot.”

“How much you figure’s there?”

“Dunno. Maybe twenty, maybe more.”

“Dang. That’s many.”

“Enough for the man on the dock, I reckon.”

“You think he’d take ‘em like that?”

“Sure why not?”

“They’s heavy. And dirty.”

“We could clean ‘em up some.”

“Okay. Will it be enough for both?”

“Don’t see why not. He’s just turning his head.”

“Yeah...”

“And it don’t cost no more if you is only turning it once.”

“’Exactly.”

“We could take ‘em to town and turn ‘em in.”

“What? No!”

“Just to get paper, moron! Not “because“! Just to make it easier to carry.”

“I don’t know... I don’t like it when it’s paper. I can’t trust that it’ll keep like when it’s copper.”

“The guy on the dock might want to put it in his pocket, in case someone’s looking.”

“He can just put ‘em next to him and sit on the box. No one’s gonna ask- “What’s in the box?””

“We could paint the word “bait” on the side.”

“Yeah! Bait! Like he‘s fishin‘!”

“And leave the dirt and just toss in some worms. That way, if someone looks in, all they’ll see is dirt and worms.”

“Yeah. I’m likin’ it! But... “

“What?”

“What if there’s another guard?”

“Whaddya mean?”

“On the ship? What if we can’t sneak on?”

“Then we ain’t going to no Norway.”

“What’ll we do with all them pennies, then?”

“Bury ‘em. Back out by that tree.”