“The Conquistador’s Box,” the priest said.
“We know it,” Cobb told him.
“Three hundred years ago, two conquistadors steal a box of no apparent worth for no apparent reason,” the priest continued.
“A box of no apparent worth now hidden for no apparent reason somewhere in the territory,” Henry rambled off quickly, as if to put an end to a story told once too often.
“I don’t see our play in this, Padre.”
“Mr. Plumb assured me that you are aficionados of the legend.”
Cobb bristled at the name. “Mr. Plumb likes to have a drink.”

The Conquistador’s Box

Ian Robert Spalding