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Week 2: Buzzard’s Booty: Quest for the Lost JBT Treasure continues!

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    Hey, you guys! Week 2 of Buzzard’s Booty: Quest for the Lost JBT Treasure is here! It’s packed with more twists, turns, and booby traps than One-Eyed Willy’s ship on your quest to claim a portion of the $5,000 cash prize. Don’t worry—there aren’t actually any booby traps… or as Data would say, “Booty traps!”

    If you missed the Week 2 Monday Missive sent out on April 14 at around 9 a.m., no worries—you can find it here. Unlike last week, there was no dedicated Monday Missive challenge for Week 2. Instead, you’ll find your widget mid-adventure, so keep your eyes peeled! That said, the message does contain some helpful hints for cracking the Side Quests. Don’t miss out—click here to read it.

    Track your rivals using the leaderboard and heatmap, and remember: Goonies never say die!

    Register your team.
    Order your treasure diary.

    Your journey continues with another page of Abe Buzzard’s memoir. Crack the code to unlock the next challenge. Good luck, and I’m sure before this segment is over, you’ll be saying, “That’s my mom’s most favorite piece!”

    Week 2A Challenge

    When you spend much of your life on the run, the days start to blur together. But I’ll never forget January 20. I think it was a Friday. What I know for sure is that it was the day that no-good detective put a bullet in me. Bartholomew, they called him. A Philadelphia detective with a reputation for sniffing out scoundrels like me. I reckon he had his eyes on that $1,000 reward the local authorities slapped on my head—dead or alive. Probably preferred dead.

    It all started after we robbed that jewelry store in Bowmansville a few months earlier. It was a good haul, but good hauls leave trails. Word of stolen goods spread fast, and that bloodhound of a detective was eventually on me. The fool actually managed to track me all the way to Ephrata Mountain. I’ll give him credit—he was relentless. But I wasn’t about to roll over and let him collect his blood money.

    I spotted him before he saw me, creeping through the trees like some hunter stalking a wounded deer. Trouble was, I wasn’t wounded yet. I drew my pistol and let loose a shot before he could even get his bearings.

    Then all hell broke loose. Bullets tore through the air, splintering bark and kicking up dirt. I fired, he fired—both of us knowing it would end with one of us on the ground. But I ain’t no easy mark. Or at least, I thought I wasn’t.

    Then came the sting—a sharp, burning pain as one of his bullets tore into my shoulder. It damn near knocked me off my feet. Blood was spilling faster than I could think, but surrender? That wasn’t in my nature.

    Somehow, I kept my legs moving, forcing myself deeper into the thick, twisted woods of the mountains. Bartholomew’s shouts faded behind me. I slipped away like smoke on the wind, vanishing into the trees where no lawman would dare follow if he valued his life.

    If you want to know where to go next, apply the key code to the table in my memoir. Code Key: CAGED

    Once you have the answer, click here.
    Hint: The password is five digits long. You are unaffected by retail hours for this challenge segment.

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