Friday 24 May 2013

Outsmarting Historians



It was the pride of the Historical society. The treasure map of highwayman ‘Maddog Murphy’, still tacked to the original wooden slats of his hideout. It showed a few hundred square miles of scrubland, and was covered in symbols, lines, and ‘clues’.

Countless treasure hunters had come in, studied intently, headed off, and returned empty-handed.

I glanced at it, wrote down some coordinates, and left.

I had dug all the treasure up within a fortnight.

I became the toast of the society, even though most of them got annoyed when I told them I simply dug where the tacks were.

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