of gold and had had it in his possession for many years. His family never did see the gold. In fact, the man was very secretive about the entire matter. John Pringle claims that there could have been a grain of truth in his uncle's wild tale. He never did work at a regular job again and always seemed to have plenty of ready cash to take care of his living expenses. Was it a true story or just another of the wild tales that were circulated throughout the west in the early days? Nobody will ever know for sure, but it is fun to dream and speculate about buried treasure, especially that which was said to have been buried in Weber Canyon. I remember watching the men blast and shape the blocks in the old sandstone pit up Dry Creek, which were used to build the sandstone Church in Mountain Green. I remember one incident when a blasting stick didn't go off. Uncle Ed Fernelius poured some water in the hole and it began to fizz and gurgle. Uncle Ed ran like mad to get out of the way, but it fizzed a little and then stopped. All the men had a good laugh. Grandfather John Heber Robinson's house was made from sandstone blocks cut out of this same pit. It was near Bob Kippen's house. Shale for the road came from a shale pit on the Kippen farm. The shale was hauled in what were called 'dump wagons'. Bottoms of the wagons were made of six inch planks and when the end gate was removed the planks would be tipped on edge so the shale could run out onto the road bed. A funny incident happened while we were at the shale pit. (My father and Un¬cle Ed handled part of the blasting.) One of the old timers found part of a case of dynamite some careless worker had left. The man put the dynamite box in a clump of willows by the railroad track and set it on fire, then started to run to get out of the danger zone. Just as he bent down to climb through a fence the dynamite exploded. The force of the blast lifted the man across the railroad tracks and dumped him against the fence on the opposite side. Luckily, no damages resulted except bruises and scrapes. Sand, gravel and rocks rained down on him like a hailstorm, he later reported. CLIFF ROBINSON 72