The Alpine Kindred by Mary Daheim

After returning her camera to the office, she came back outside, and we made the short trek across the street and down one block to the Burger Barn.
    Since it was almost one, there were a half-dozen empty booths. I waited until after we had given our orders before enlightening my House
&
Home editor about the gold stash. Naturally, she was outraged.
    “How could I not know about the nuggets? What's the matter with my nephew Billy? Are you sure Milo had possession of this so-called treasure?”
    “Yes, according to the Bourgettes. The box is at the assayer's office. But I guess it hasn't been traced yet. Now, what's going on at the warehouse site?”
    Vida didn't answer immediately, apparently taking a moment to digest my account and the enormity of her ignorance. “John and Dan started clearing the property Sunday afternoon,” she finally said. “They had most of the debris out of the way by this morning. Apparently that was the signal for the scavengers to start digging. I must say,” she continued, “they have enough gumption to dig, but not to haul.”
    “How many were looking for so-called treasure?” I asked as our waitress brought my Pepsi and Vida's hot tea.
    “I counted twenty-two,” Vida responded. “Naturally, I recognized everyone except for a half dozen who may have been college students. Two of them were engaged in a rather ugly tug-of-war with a faculty member from sociology. Several of the trespassers had metal detectors.
    Really, Emma, I can't imagine how I could have missed such an incident!”
    “As I said, it happened while we were out of town last fall. You were gone longer than I was, and I suppose by the time you got back, the initial gossip had died down.” I paused, wondering why the treasure hunters had waited so long. “Maybe it was too dangerous to dig until now. The place was a real mess.”
    Vida inclined her head. “That's so. Though I heard just now that the railroad had sent someone to watch the property for a few weeks. I also learned that there had been a rash of scavengers right after the fire, but when Averill Fairbanks was knocked unconscious by a falling timber, the others decided to stay away.”
    “Averill was hurt?” I said in surprise. Averill was our resident UFO spotter and more inclined to scan the skies than dig the dirt. “It must have happened before I got back from Oregon.”
    “It was. Indeed, the ashes were still hot. Averill also burned his shoes.” Vida made a face. “People are so foolish. And greedy. Sam Heppner and Dwight Gould practically had to resort to force to remove the trespassers. I'm afraid the Bourgettes will have to hire a night watchman.”
    “Could be.” My answer was detached. I was wondering if in fact there really was more buried gold on the warehouse premises. “As soon as Carla gets back, I'm going to have her do some research on the early mining days around here.”
    Vida stopped blowing on her tea. “Carla? Why? She's been here only a short time. I'll do it.”
    I suppressed a beleaguered sigh. “She's been here almost as long as I have,” I noted. Which, I was well aware, was also a short time in Vida's opinion. “This is a news story or at least a news feature. It won't go in the House & Home section. Besides,” I added ominously, “the miningwas done before your time.” Vida hated it when an event had occurred “before her time.” She considered such past history as neolithic, or at least inconsequential.
    “Nonsense,” Vida retorted. “I've often done historical features, not only for my page, but for special editions. Besides, I might not have been born while they were mining in the area—goodness, there was no Alpine then, only a whistle-stop called Nippon—but I'm well versed in the background.”
    I didn't doubt it, so I gave in. At least Vida wouldn't have to start from scratch. “Okay, but even you will have to do some—excuse the expression—digging.”
    “Certainly. If nothing else, I'll need to