The summer, having been a long and tiresome summer, has taken its toll on my nerves. Thus, the plotting of my next move had been put off until this afternoon, when I received a visitor who was much interested in the project at hand.

The name of the gentleman is Master George Jarius Finney. Such a funny name for a very distinguished man. He took my hand gently and patted it as he spoke- his manner seemed genuine enough, and yet I continue to guard my secrets until I learn further what his motives are in their entirety. He gave his concern for my uncle and departed, leaving a small card in my hand. I do believe that I will turn this matter over to our solicitors for an evaluation before taking action.

In my uncle's own hand is a letter that has been discovered in his old trunk in a hidden door. There is nothing so fascinating as the inner workings of my uncle's mind. I shall be rather busy for the next weeks, getting the letter deciphered, for it seems to have been written in a kind of code.

17 July 1903 Grace Johnston Dwyer

The man I spoke of has returned with an answer to my inquiry. He proclaims the trinket to be made of no metal that he has ever before held in his hands. This is a curiosity that I, myself, cannot fathom. How can a man whose life's work has been metals speak of such things? Is it truly not silver or gold, or is there some sinister purpose behind his statements?

I must move forward, for the answer I received on this matter has vexed my mind so that I can no longer search for Uncle from my own home. I believe that I will gain more knowledge on his whereabouts if I search in the last place known to him- Georgetown, Colorado. I have learned that Georgetown is a mining town and still, it seems, holding on to its past. Perhaps it is there that I may at long last put my foot upon the trail head that will lead me to Uncle. Grace Johnston Dwyer 22 April 1903

I have just come from my uncle's home. It has become clear to my mind the reason for my endeavor concerning his sanity and well being. My only interest is in finding him and doing that I shall hear of his happenings at last.

In the garden at Uncle's, I found a trinket which is of the most curious workmanship. It is silver, approximately the size of a penny and hangs from a silver chain. On the outside, it is plain, smooth and unmarked. Upon further exploration, however, I discovered that it opened and inside was a marvelous engraving of a scene of some kind. It is far too small to examine with any degree of certainty as to the exact picture with the naked eye. On the morrow, I shall take it to a jeweler in the district. Perhaps then I may see if there are any secrets inside the locket to behold. Grace Johnston Dwyer 14 April 1903

New Format

It's time to get back to this, eh? I've had a strange year. I finished a novel, the first in a series. Now, I'd like to tell you this story as it unfolded before my eyes.

I am certain that any reader of the material contained in this journal would find it incredible, to say the very least.

My great-uncle, Josiah Johnston, has been listed as missing for well over seventeen years now. It was only last Spring that I was able to locate any trace of him in this journal. For though his home was searched from attic to cellar, the journal did not surface at that time.

Last Spring, at precisely the time of Easter, I found the journal lying on top of a quilt in an old wardrobe in a room that I know had been searched previously. I had performed that chore myself. The contents of the journal are fascinating to me. I have yet to peruse the entire book as of yet, but will on occasion find the time to sit and read. I have nothing to write about at this time, but will continue to ponder those things that I have heretofore mentioned in my earlier entry. Suffice it to say that Uncle Josiah came upon a wonderous sight in the forests of Colorado and I intend to take my own journey to the same place in an attempt to catch a glimpse of whatever I may find for myself. Grace Johnston Dwyer 9 April 1903

Wednesday, April 5, 1903

This is a story that begins with an entry in the journal of Josiah Johnston, the famed Western explorer. After exploring the Eastern half of Colorado and the territories beyond the border to the North, he came to rest one day on a rock. It says that he heard a sharp hammering noise to his left, across the small creek he'd just taken a drink from. When he got to his feet, he turned in the direction of the noise and, peeking through the brush, beheld a sight that gave him pause to wonder if he was awake or dreaming.

"It has been hours since I walked into the forest chasing the sound that brought me to attention. Still, I cannot understand what was before me in that instant. Reality seemed to slip from my very mind as I peered at something in the distance that can only be described as false for there is nothing in this world that can compare to the wonder that I came across on this day. I will not write further about it in this entry. Rather, I will set myself to repose for the night. When I awaken on the morrow, I shall venture further into the forested area surrounding to force myself to believe. Truly, Josiah Johnston June 14, 1868

It was this entry that caught my interest, for until this entry Uncle Josiah seemed a pleasant, sane fellow. He was jolly, happy in his writings and very meticulous in his capture of the Western spirit- the wild west in all its curiosity. Perhaps his being sane was an incorrect assumption on my part all of these years. Perhaps he was "off his rocker" as the remainder of his family claim to this day. I will continue to investigate my uncle's findings in the woods of Colorado until I am able to prove or disprove his sanity. After all, it was his money that gave all of us the lifestyle in which we live. It was his name that until a few short months ago, kept our own families in the very inner circles of society. He deserves at the very least my looking into the matter. Grace Johnston Dwyer 5 April 1903