Digby felt the skin on his arms tingle with each blow. Rumors of the Jesuit Treasure had persisted for hundreds of years, but no proof had ever surfaced. Old missions had been scoured steeple to pulpit, some even dismantled

Shaun Morey

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Now, half an hour later, adrenaline thrust him into overdrive. Storms of shale and spall burst from the ground. Ropes of sweat braided his skin. He swung again and again. The heavy pick shattered earth. Digby was in a rhythm, a digging trance, that rare state of archaeological

Shaun Morey

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