佚名/Anonyo
ThesoundoftheclockadeBridgetjup.Ithadbeensoquietthelivgroo.Hereyeswenttothecarvedbckcaseonthedesk.I,theclotuedtochi.Thenotessoundedsaday.
EverythgseedeptyRoseCottagesceGrandpahaddied.He’dlivedherefhty-oyears,andBridgethadvisitedhieverysurofherlife.Nowthettagewouldbesold.
“YoukeepsothgtoreberGrandpaby.”Mohadsaid.
Bridgetlookedawayfrotheclock.Thatwasn’twhatsheoredherofGrandpa’steasgeyesandhishugs.Wouldabookakeherthkofhi?Shewenttotheshelf,butostofthebookslookedb.Thenshesaerstickgoutofabook.Gentlyshepulleditout.
Adatewaswrittenononesideofthepaper:February1,1927.Ohersidewassothgexcitg.Bridgetgaveashoutthatbroughtherbrotherrunng.
“LookwhatIfound.”Bridgetsaid.
Coltookthepaperandgthedate,thengaspedwhenhesawtheotherside.AboveadragwerethewordsMyTreasureMap.
“Grandpaalwayssaidhe’dburiedatreasureonhisnd.”Bridgetsaid.“Ithoughthewasteasg.”
“SodidI.”Colsaid.“Thisapprovesthathewasn’t.”
Itleap:jtabigcirclethatsaidTheGiantandanarrowpotgfroitwiththewordsTwenty-YardWalk.AttheendofthearrowwasasallcirclearkedStone,andanX.
“TheGiantiswhatGrandpacalledthatbigboulder”Bridgetsaid.
“Andthetreasureisburiedunderastoyyardsfroit,”Colsaid.“Let’sgo!”
Theyranoutsideandgrabbedshovelsfrotheshed.TheyracedacrossafieldtoTheGiant.ItwastheonlybigboulderontheIowafar,anditstoodbesideastrea.
ColstartedtowalkawayfroTheGiant.Itwasn’teasytoasureentyyardswithhisshortstrides,butagncearoundthefieldshowedonlyostohatuldhidethetreasure.
“Thisonefirst,”Colsaid,rollgasidethebiggerstone.
Bridgetthrthershoveltothedirt.Whatuldthetreasurebe?“Goldbars,”sheguessed.“Orjewels—achestfullofsapphiresanddiaonds.”
Didtheoldtreasureapakesense?
Colughed.“Berealistic,Bridget.I’llbetit’soney.”
“Enoughtobuyanewputerorabike?”
“Maybeenoughtosavethispce,”Colsaid.“Ifwefdalotofoney,Mowon’thavetosellthettage.Wealwaysspendoursurshere.”
Bridgetkwouldn’tbethesawithoutGrandpa,butshelovedtheoldttage.Thethoughtofsavgitspurredheroightenedhergripontheshovelanddugharder.Buthalfanhourter,allthey’dunveredwasdirt.
“Ittbeuheotherstone.”Colsaid.
Theyovedtotheotherspotanddugforanhour.Bridget’sarsbegantoache,andherfaceburhesunlight.“Thetreasureisn’thereeither.”shesaid.Sheturnedandwalkedbacktowardthettage.Colgrittedhisteethadiggg.
BridgetwenttothettageandstaredatGrandpa’sap.Wastheresothgshehadissed?Soceshehadn’tsnappedup?Shesearchedthedragchbych,thenturnedoverthepaper.Theonlythgtherewasthedate.
“I’vegotit!”Bridgetcried.SheracedoutsideandgrabbedhershovelandheadedforthestreaheGiant.
“Whereareyougog?”Colcalled.“Waitfor.”
Coldashedtothestrea,tetwasalreadytherowboatthatwasalwaystiedhebank,waitgforanyonewhowaocross.
Bridgetdidn’tsayawordastheyrowedacrossthestrea.Thensheledthewaytoasglestoheoppositebank.Shedidn’theshovel.Shejtrolledasidethestoneandunveredatalbox.
Colgasped.“Howdidyouknow?”
Bridgetsiled.“Theapwasadetheiddleofter.Grandpacrossedthestrea.Hewalkedacrosstheice!”
“There’ssothgelsewefot,”sheheyearwas1927.Grandpahidthisboxwhenhewasalittleboy!”
客厅里异常安静，钟表的报时声把布里奇特吓了一跳。她转过去，看到桌子上那个雕花的黑色盒子，时钟还在里面咚咚作响，听起来悲哀且空寂。
自爷爷死后，罗斯别墅的一切看起来都是空****的。爷爷在这住了82年，以前每年夏天，布里奇特都要到这来看他。现在这座别墅要卖了。
“你可以留下点儿东西，以纪念爷爷。”妈妈说。
布里奇特不再看着时钟，那不能勾起她对爷爷逗弄的眼睛和拥抱的思念。一本书会让她想起爷爷吗？她走向书架，但大多数的书看起来令人厌烦。这时，她看见一张纸从一本书里露出来，便轻轻地把它拽出来。
纸上一面写着一个日期：1927年2月1日。另一面有些令人激动的东西，布里奇特尖叫一声，她弟弟忙跑了过来。
“看，我发现了什么！”布里奇特说道。