“Is this the spot?” Professor Hamilton eyed the GPS. “I believe so, Walter. It matches the coordinates I calculated, but it’s all based on a guess I made while in the air.” Walter kicked at a pile of dead leaves and surveyed the bare trees that stood like sleeping wooden skeletons on the gentle incline. “Okay. What now?” The professor marched across the slope, his head turning from one side to the other. He sniffed the brisk air as though a scent might give him a clue. “We’ll just have a look around.” “If the sword is here, won’t it be covered by leaves?” Walter picked up a rotting maple leaf and tossed it into the wind. “Good point. Be sure to shuffle your boots as you walk.” The two searchers dragged their feet across acres of uneven terrain, kicking up dozens of small logs, stubbing their toes on hidden rocks, and wetting their shoes in concealed snowmelt puddles.
