Treasure

"I hate to see this one go."

"You've done a remarkable job," said Pitt.

"Are you going to ship it home?"

"Not just yet. I'd like to drive it for a few days."

Esbenson nodded. "Okay, let me adjust the carburetor and distributor for our high altitude. Then, when you return to the shop, I'll have it detailed and arrange for an auto transporter to ship it to Washington."

"Can I ride in it?" Lily asked anxiously.

"All the way to Breckenridge," Pitt replied. He turned to Giordino.

"Coming with us, Al?"

"Why not? We can leave the rental car outside in the parking lot."

They switched the luggage, and ten minutes later Pitt turned the Cord onto Interstate 70 and aimed the long hood toward the foothills leading into the snow-peaked Rocky Mountains.

Lily and Al sat warmly in the luxurious passenger compartment separated from Pitt by the divider window. Pitt did not pull out the transformable top that protected the chauffeur's seat, but sat in the open bundled up in a heavy sheepskin coat, savoring the cold air on his face.

for the moment his mind was on his driving, sca

Pitt felt exhilarated and content behind the wheel, listening to the smooth purr of the eight-cylinder engine and the mellow tone of the exhaust. It was as though he had control over a living thing.

if he had had any inkling of the mess he was driving into, he would have turned around and headed straight back to Denver.

Darkness had fallen over the Continental Divide when the Cord rolled into the legendary Colorado mining town turned ski resort. Pitt drove up the main street, whose old buildings retained their historic western flavor. The sidewalks were crowded with people coming from the slopes, carrying their skis and poles over one shoulder.

Pitt parked near the entrance of the Hotel Breckenridge. He signed the register and took two phone messages from the desk clerk. He read both slips of paper and slipped them into a pocket.

"from Dr. Rothberg?" asked Lily.

"Yes, he's invited us for di

"What time?" Giordino queried.

"Seven-thirty."

Lily glanced at her watch. "Only forty minutes to shower and do my hair. I'd better get with it."

Pitt gave her the room key. "You're in two twenty-one. Al and I have rooms adjoining yours on each side."

As soon as Lily disappeared with the porter into an elevator, Pitt motioned Giordino into the cocktail lounge. He waited until the barmaid took their drink order before passing the second message across the table.

Giordino read it aloud softly. " 'Your library project takes top priority. Most urgent you find a permanent address for Alex in the next four days. Luck, Dad."

" He looked up, utterly confused. "Do I read this right? We have only four days to identify the location?"

Pitt nodded positively. "I read panic between the lines and smell something rumbling in Washington power circles."

"They might as well ask us to invent a common cure for herpes, AIDS and acne," Giordino grumbled. "We can kiss off our skiing trip."

"We'll stay," said Pitt resolutely. "Nothing we can do until Yaeger gets lucky." Pitt rose from his chair. "And speaking of Yaeger, I'd better give him a call."

He found a public telephone in the hotel lobby and made a call on his credit card. After four rings a voice answered in what sounded like the middle of a yawn.

"Yaeger here."

"Hiram, this is Dirk. How's your search going?"

"It's going."

"Run onto anything?"

"My babies sifted through every piece of geological data in their little banks from Casablanca around the horn to Zanzibar. They failed to find a hot spot along the coast of Africa that matched your drawing. There were three vague possibilities.

But when I programmed profiles on land-mass transformations that might have occurred over the past sixteen hundred years, none proved encouraging. Sorry."

"What's your next step?"

"I'm. already in the process of heading north. This will take more time because of the extensive shoreline encompassing the British Isles, the Baltic Sea and the Scandinavian countries as far as Siberia."

"Can you cover it in four days?"

"Only if you insist I put the hired help on a twenty-four-hour schedule."

"I insist," said Pitt sternly. "Word has just come down that the project has become an urgent priority."

"We'll hit it hard," Yaeger said, his voice more jovial than serious.

"I'M in Breckenridge, Colorado. if you strike on something, call me at the Breckenridge Hotel." Pitt gave Yaeger the hotel phone and his room number.

Yaeger dutifully repeated the digits. "Okay, got it."

"You sound like you're in a good mood," said Pitt.

"Why not? We accomplished quite a lot."

"Like what? You still don't know where our river lies."

"True," replied Yaeger cheerfully. "But we sure as hell know where it ain't."

Snowflakes the size of cornflakes were falling as the three trudged across the street from the hotel to a two-story cedarsided condominium.

A floodlighted sign read SKIQUEEN. They climbed a stairway and knocked on the door to unit 22B.

Bertram Rothberg greeted them with a jolly smile beneath a splendid gray beard and sparkling blue eyes. His ears rose in full sail through a swirling sea of gray hair. A red plaid shirt and corduroy trousers clad his beefy body. Put an ax in one hand -and a crosscut saw in the other, and he could have reported for duty as a lumberjack.

He shook hands warmly and without introductions as if he'd known everyone for years. He led them up a narrow stairwell to a combination living-dining room beneath a high-peaked ceiling with skylights.

"How does a gallon bottle of cheap burgundy sound before di

Lily laughed. "I'm game."

Giordino shrugged. "Makes no difference as long as it's wet."

"And you, Dirk?"

"Sounds good."

Pitt didn't bother asking Rothberg how he recognized each of them. His father would have provided descriptions. The performance was nearly flawless. Pitt suspected the historian had worked for one of the government's many intelligence agencies at some time in the past.

Rothberg retired to the kitchen to pour the wine. Lily followed.

"Can I help you with anything-?" She suddenly stopped and peered at the empty counters and the cold stove.

Rothberg caught her curious look. "I'm a lousy cook so our di

He passed the glasses and then lowered his rotund figure into a leather easy chair. He raised his glass.

"Here's to a successful search."

"Hear, hear," said Lily.

Pitt got off the mark. "Dad tells me you've made the Alexandria Library a life study."

"Thirty-two years. Probably been better off to have taken a wife all that time instead of rummaging around dusty bookshelves and straining my eyes over old manuscripts. The subject has been like a mistress to me.