you've got two minutes to come out with you hands over your heads!
as a hole in an oak hides a squirrel's family jewels, the bag had hidden love letters in the bottom of a bunkhouse trunk.
then one day after work, the button- nosed little cowgirl to whom the letters were addressed gathered bag and contents under her arm, slipped out to the corral.
past ranch hands pitching horseshoes and ranch hands flying tibetan kites, saddled up and trotted into the hills.
a mile or so from the bunkhouse, she dismounted and built a small fire; she fed the fire letters.
one by one, the way her girl friend had once fed her french fries.
as words such as sweetheart" and "honey britches" and "forever" and "always" burned away, the cowgirl squirted a few tears. her eyes were so misty she forgot to burn the bag.