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No pictures were ever taken. But artists have gone over the miners’ eyewitness accounts of that room, and when you’re led in, you will see what they might have seen almost 100 years ago.”

Chapter 17

    People passed by the huge nugget on their way to the exhibit. A woman sold replicas of it, along with snacks and soda. Ashley tugged at my arm to get in line and I followed, hoping we’d get to take some fake gold home. Sam and Dylan were already way ahead of us, and Dylan pointed at a toy miner’s hat with a light in it.
    A well-dressed man stood behind the glass to make sure no one tried to touch the nugget.
    “I’ll bet you have that thing insured,” a tourist said.
    “For 50 million, sir,” the owner said. A muscular guard stood behind him.
    It wasn’t that exciting, seeing some hunk of gold a dead guy had hidden. Dylan wriggled down and ran from the store, his miner’s hat shifting on his head and Sam hurrying after him. A stranger at the doorway looked straight at Ashley and me. He walked to the front and talked with the store owner.
    We were only three people away from the nugget now. I pointed at Ashley’s camera, but she shook her head. When she turned to look at some fake rocks on the counter, I grabbed the camera and shot a picture of the nugget. As soon as the flash went off, the well-dressed man was next to me.
    “Pictures aren’t allowed,” he said, his mouth tight.
    I couldn’t see any sign that said No Pictures Allowed. My face got hot, and I knew my cheeks were red. I hate when that happens. It felt like everybody was staring at me, and I was nervous. The camera slipped and bonked on the floor. The memory stick snapped out and clattered away.
    “Nice work, Captain Clumso,” Ashley whispered.
    I scooped up the camera and handed it to Ashley. She inspected it and frowned, but I could tell it still worked.
    The shop owner was next to me now. “I’ll have to ask for the film from that camera.”
    “I-I’m sorry,” I said. “I didn’t see a sign.”
    “Whose children are these?” the store owner said, ignoring me. He said it like we were a couple of muddy dogs who had run over his white carpet.
    “They’re mine,” Sam said from behind us. He was carrying Dylan, and I was glad he was back. He walked toward us as the crowd parted. “I’m sure this was an innocent mistake.”
    The owner frowned. “I would ask you to control your children.”
    Sam stared at the man with a look I hadn’t seen before, like a tiger that’s been in a cage too long.
    “It’s digital,” Ashley said. “I can delete the picture.”
    The owner seized the camera and seemed to know how to work it. He went through every picture Ashley had shot—the ones of the front of the cabin, the view from the window, even one of me sleeping with my Cubs blanket, which I didn’t know she had taken.
    The man studied a photo—a bit too long, I thought—then hit the Delete button. Then he deleted the entire set of pictures she had taken. “Just to be sure,” he said, handing the camera back to Ashley, who scowled at him. He looked at Sam. “I’d like you to leave now.”
    “Glad to,” Sam said, his voice stiff.
    As we walked out, a kid tapped me on the shoulder and handed me the memory stick. I stuffed it in my pocket.

Chapter 18

    I jumped into the front seat and Bryce didn’t argue. His cheeks were as red as a hot pepper when he slipped in beside Dylan, pulled his knees up, and hid his face. Dylan turned on his hat light and patted Bryce on the head, but it didn’t help.
    I was bummed that we couldn’t go into the vug. The way the guy pumped it up made me feel like we’d almost be going back in time. Plus, I’d read some stuff on the Internet about gold’s history—how the capitol dome in Denver is made of real gold, and how many people died trying to strike it rich.
    Sam looked in the rearview mirror. “There wasn’t a sign, was there?”
    Bryce shook his head vigorously.
    “Don’t worry about that