He turned toward the barn.
Then toward the house.
His mother was still at work.
The field was quiet.
And the sun was dropping toward the horizon.
He could investigate alone.
Nobody would stop him.
But he remembered the promise he'd made to Sarah.
No disturbing old structures.
No digging into unknown drainage systems.
And no taking risks because he wanted an answer quickly.
So he closed the notebook.
Placed a small marker beside the notched stone.
And went inside to call his mother.
That decision would matter more than he knew.
Because beneath the old stones was a covered access chamber his grandfather had built decades earlier.
Its timbers had weakened with age.
And if Eli had tried to open it alone, the afternoon could have ended very differently.
Instead, when Sarah returned, she called Nora Kim.
And the next morning, they discovered what Daniel Mercer had been trying to preserve.
Nora arrived shortly after nine the next morning with a field technician named David Ellis.
David was forty-five, with sun-darkened skin, a broad-brimmed hat, and years of experience examining old agricultural drainage systems. He carried measuring equipment and a folder containing historic maps the conservation office had been able to locate.
Sarah met them beside the barn.
Eli was already waiting.
He'd barely slept.
Every time he closed his eyes, he imagined what might be beneath Grandpa's notched stone.
A treasure box.
An underground stream.
A forgotten well.
Or perhaps nothing more than a broken section of old drainage pipe.
He tried not to get his hopes up.
Nora crouched beside the North Bed.
“Show us.”
Eli pointed toward the marked stone.
Then opened the notebook.
David examined the drawing.
For several minutes, he studied the terrain.
Then he walked toward the cottonwood stump.
He stopped.
Looked down.
And brushed aside a little loose surface material.
An old iron ring became visible near the edge of a flat stone slab.
Eli felt his heart leap.
“There!”
David raised one hand.
“Don't touch it yet.”
The boy stopped immediately.