9:3

Edward gazed across the water. It really was amazing what people got up to when they had the time and resources. This vast reservoir of water was entirely man made. And it was completely out of place here on the prairie, as the prickly pear cactus that Edward had narrowly avoided sitting on attested to. Leave it to people to put a lake in the desert.

The sun was slowly setting and the light twinkled and bounced off the water, and the occasional sail, while Edward let focus slip from his eyes.

It hadn’t taken that long to find it. It hadn’t really been hidden, just placed out of view under a pile of old musty saddle blankets. The ratty notebook had been filled with page after page of neatly written script and a most informative, yet horrifying, story.

And, most importantly, it had provided a vital clue to why the beaver seemed to be messing about in his business. Not the whole story, at least not yet, but there was now a logical connection between Edward’s mission and the beaver’s constant interference—and that was what he had been looking for. Better yet, it also provided a pretty good idea where he might find what the flat-tailed pinhead was sticking his nose into this time.