As the sun blistered the pavement outside, Raymond and I sat beneath the whirling ceiling fan and plotted our escape; retrieve the loot, drive to Reno, double our money. After the fire, we’d dug up the metal boxes full of cash buried under the old store. If anyone in this one-horse town had believed the legend, they’d have beaten us to it, but because they were too stupid (or too skeptical), we simply waltzed over to the charred wreckage one night and did the digging ourselves. Cryptocurrency might be the new thing, but cold hard cash will always be king.