Masonic Lodge Number One is but a short distance from the Meetinghouse. Robert and Luke mount up and spur their horses followed closely behind by Elder Lindley in his buggy. He said he was coming too he wasn’t going to miss the excitement.
Luke has been instructed to go to Lonnie Taylor’s house and ask him to meet with Robert and Elder Lindley at the Lodge.
Stopping in front of the Lodge to await the arrival of the official from the Masonic Lodge. Robert lights the two lanterns on either side of the entrance doors so they can see a little better. The wait is not long. Up rides Luke followed closely by Mr. Taylor. Dismounting, Taylor like Elder Lindley could not understand why Robert would want back into the Masonic Lodge, especially this late at night.
“I’ve got the keys right here Robert, but I don’t understand what you expect to find inside. We have already searched the Lodge pretty good, I think.”
“You’re right Lonnie, we’re not going inside. I wanted you here to see what I think we will find on your Lodge’s property. No need to explain I’ll just show you all, but first I want to thank you for coming down to meet us.”
“You’re welcome Robert, glad to help.”
“Lonnie during the late War I know you were in the Artillery, I believe you were what we in the Infantry called a ‘cannon cocker.’ Your job took you right out there at the beginning of every action while engaging the enemy. Seen a lot of battles just like most of us, right?”
“Yeah, more than I wanted to, believe you me!”
“Lonnie I’m saying this to establish the fact that you know all about cannons and cannonballs. I reckon you have handled a few of those balls in your time, isn’t this correct?”
“Yes, that is surely the truth.”
Robert walks over to the old Revolutionary War cannon, “Lonnie this pile of cannonballs stacked next to the cannon contains twelve-pound balls, agreed?”
“Yes, twelve pound balls. I agree Robert. As I said, I have fired many of them, just like these at the boys from the North.”
“Fine, pick up the one on top and bring it over to me.”
Mr. Taylor walks over to the stack places his hands on the top cannonball and lifts; rather he tries to raise it. He grasps the ball with both hands and expecting a weight of slightly close to twelve pounds he groans, “Uh, something is wrong Robert,” he says straining to lift the heavy cannonball. “This ball must weigh more than seventy or eighty pounds. I don’t understand.”
“Luke, take your pocket knife and scrape off a little of that black paint. I believe Elder Lindley and Lonnie would like to see what type of metal is in this ball.”
Doing as he was told Luke scratched the ball with his knife blade. Even in the dim light cast by the flickering flames of the two lanterns a glitter could be seen, “Why...why...that is not iron. It looks like it might be go...go...gold!” exclaimed the flabbergasted Worshipful Master of Lodge Number One.
“Indeed Lonnie, it is gold. These cannonballs are all solid gold, each weighing between fifty to one hundred pounds. I’m just estimating, but I guess each ball would require three or four bars of gold to make, and a bar of gold weighs between twenty-five to thirty pounds. While imprisoned at Point Lookout, one of my closest friends worked the gold mines in northern Georgia before the War; he said a bar of gold weighed twenty-seven pounds. Luke, how about helping Lonnie count the balls in the stack.”
“No need Robert, I can tell you a four-stack of twelve-pounders contains thirty balls. I’ve stacked too many, and my memory might not be as it once was, but I’ll never forget that number!”
“Okay, let’s say each ball weighs at a minimum fifty pounds, and Lonnie you say there are thirty of them, I don’t need to cipher those numbers the answer is one thousand five hundred pounds.
“Why, there is almost a ton of gold stacked right here!”
“Yes Lonnie and it has been here for the past seventy-four years! Hiding in plain sight, and within the past hour Elder Lindley, Luke and myself found the rest of the gold in the Meetinghouse. The gold had been melted and cast in to the church’s two bells and two golden headstocks...”
Interrupting, Lonnie wanted to know the description of a headstock. Robert explains Lonnie grunts and nods his head.
Continuing, “I have no way of knowing how much those bells and headstocks weigh, but guessing I would say they must weigh at least the same as all these cannonballs.”
“Oh my, that’s another ton and a half of pure gold,” William said rubbing the top cannon ball. “What are we to do now?”
“While waiting for you to arrive Lonnie I gave this problem some thought. First, for the time being, only the three of us are to know of our find. Even the hint, that the gold is found, would stir this town in to a frenzy of gold fever.”
“Yes, yes I agree.”
“At least,” said Robert, “the mystery of my Pappy John’s Bible is solved!” Bowing his head, “Thank you Pappy Scarburg for the 2K168 riddle.”