Captain Stockton turned north and walked toward a large rock outcropping. He made notes on his map by the light of the full moon while three of his crewmen struggled along behind with a large chest full of gold doubloons. The treasure had nearly capsized the small boat they had taken to shore, and Stockton had made a mental note to bury less at a time in the future.

After twenty paces, he made his final mark on the map and had his men start digging. In no time, they had a sufficiently large crater, and Stockton had one of them get out and help hand the chest to the other two. Stockton released his end to the men below, and in one smooth motion he stood, drew his saber, and ran it through the other crewman’s heart. The men with the gold barely had time to register the treachery. As the dying man fell, sword planted in his torso, Stockton drew his pistols, shooting the two remaining men in the head.

Dead men tell no tales.

Stockton shoveled sand into the hole as the moon slid behind dark clouds.