Episode Transcript
[00:00:10] Speaker A: From common mystics media, this is the Boo review. I'm Jill Stanley. Good evening. Tonight's story unfolds amidst the relentless rhythm of crashing waves on the gloomy Atlantic coastline. Based on an article originally published in the Atlantic City, New Jersey, Sunday Gazette, dated October 21, 1894, this is a riveting tale of intrigue, avarice, and dread where the allure of an elusive steel men's treasure ensnares four men, plunging them into a night teeming with uncanny incidents. Their resilience is put to the ultimate test. Physically and mentally pushing their bravery to the brink. Tonight's presentation narrates their chilling encounter. For more details, please welcome Jennifer James at the Bulletin desk. Jennifer?
[00:01:06] Speaker B: Thanks, Jill. It all started in autumn of 1894 with two old friends talking in a bar along the boardwalk of Atlantic City, New Jersey.
Lou Conover and George Carmen were engaged in a lively discussion. They seemed eager to keep to themselves at first. But as the evening wore on and the drinks continued to pour, their conversation grew louder and more animated. In time, a pair of men approached the duo.
George. Lou. Good evening, gentlemen. Good to see you again.
Will hand. I didn't know you were back in town. Lou greeted his friend enthusiastically, invited both men to join them. Will and his companion, a recent acquaintance called Osborn, pulled up chairs and sat down. Will explained that he had just come in on the train from New York that evening. He begged his friends pardon, but he had overheard their conversation and his curiosity was piqued. Will asked if they had in fact learned of the location of the fabled Steelman treasure.
Lou and George reluctantly admitted that, yes, this was the case about 48 years prior. The Steelman family once owned considerable land in the central part of Atlantic City, New Jersey, which was at that time mostly sandhills. James Steelman, the last heir, was made a good offer for it and sold out for for $3.50 an acre, or a total of 3600. Besides that amount, he had also received a few days previous, $2,800 for his family's share of a schooner.
James Steelman's ship had come in, and he was rich. He planned to relocate to New York, abandoning the land where his family had lived for a century and a half. He made ready for his departure, but he feared he would be robbed of his wealth in the meantime by the men called wreckers who infested the town of Brigantine, northeast of Atlantic City, and who came past his cabin frequently.
So James Steelman decided to bury his money.
Now all this was known to the residents of Atlantic City and speculating about the buried treasure had since become something of a local pastime, and Lou was convinced that Steelman had hidden his treasure in a long wooden box in a spot where now stood the new coast guard station.
George thought the idea was ludicrous and not worth the effort at all. Finally, George rose from the table a little unsteadily, called his friends fools one last time, and set out for his nighttime employment as an overnight watchman for a nearby warehouse. The others returned to their plans to liberate the long sought steelman treasure. Lou loaded some picks and shovels into his wagon and just passed one. In the morning, he, Wil hand, and Osborn headed up the coast under the COVID of darkness.
Lou explained that old man Leeds knew the treasure was somewhere on his property, which is why he didn't want to sell out to build the Coast Guard station. They say Steelman buried all that gold near the shore, Osborn added. He was afraid that wreckers up by Brigantine would hear about his good fortune and come looking for it soon enough. He was right. These three hard cases came down from Brigantine to see Steelman. They heard his ship came in and that he sold out, and they wanted the cash, $6,400 in gold. But Steelman was stubborn. He refused to tell them anything. They threatened to take him from his cabin down to the beach and drown him in the surf, but still he wouldn't talk. They struck him in the face and told him worse was coming if he didn't spill, and he hollered to wake the dead.
The wreckers got scared one of his neighbors would hear, and one of them hit the old man behind the ear with an oar. Steelman went down hard like a sack of coal. He hit his head against the edge of his table and lay unmoving in an expanding pool of blood.
Well, the wreckers ran out in a panic without the gold, without so much as a penny to show for Steelman's murder.
Well, I heard they cut off his fingers one by one and both his ears to get him to talk. Will chuckled. That's not what happened, Osborne retorted. Nobody cut the old man. Nobody wanted to kill him. It was an accident. It was 50 years ago, Lou interrupted. Doesn't matter how Steelman met his end. What everyone knows is that he died and never gave up the location of his buried treasure. And it's still out there somewhere waiting to be dug up. Soon they reached the darkened coast guard station. Lou grabbed his old lantern and a pick, while the others grabbed picks and shovels. They headed towards the rear wall of the white painted structure. Lou said he had learned the treasure was under the southeast corner of the building, and he held the lantern on the spot while the others started to dig. They dug quickly in the sandy ground, and will dug down 2ft before his shovel struck something hard.
They remarked in surprise.
Will dropped to his knees and pushed the sand and dirt aside, and there was a long wooden box.
With an excited shout, Will struck at the lid of the box until it split open.
They could see it was filled with bulging sacks. We're rich, Will whispered. Wait. What is that? Lou aimed the bullseye lantern's beam into the gloom. A single figure, its face bloodless white, stood noiselessly beside the darkened building, draped in a rotting shroud.
The figure took a single step and reached out one hand towards them.
Lou and his companion staggered backwards. It's Steelman's ghost. Steelman's ghost. Will cried out. Ah, it's bodkin. Save me, Lord. He reached a trembling hand into his vest pocket and pulled out a derringer and fired at the apparition.
George Carman fell backwards. With a shout. Lou raced to his side. Dear God, George. He shot you. George frantically searched his person for a few moments. The bullet passed through the shroud. Here. I'm not hit. Thank you, Lord Jesus. I'm not hit. I'd say we were done with this game, George. Lou and George quickly confessed their prank to lure their friends to search for the treasure and then scare them. And they admitted to burying the box after filling it with sacks of stones. After separating from the others, George had wrapped himself in some old rags, applied white face paint, and rushed to the Coast Guard station, ready for the prank.
Amid this explanation, Osborne oddly asked, how did you know the right place to bury the box, Saloo? Will asked. Just how many people did you bring out here for the sake of a prank? Lou began to answer, but the words died in his throat.
Suddenly he could see dozens of silent figures in a semicircle around them, backing them up to the building behind them.
How did you know where to dig? Osborn repeated. What do you mean? Asked George. It's not yours, replied Osborn. You have no right to take it. It belongs to the steelmans. All of them. They will protect it. Old man Leeds knew. That's why he stopped searching for it.
40 men, women, and children scowled, their eyes dark and pitiless. The light of the oil lantern turned dark red and flickered like a candle.
George thought the light made it seem as if the building behind them was covered in blood, and one by one, each pick and shovel they carried split into pieces, showering the men with splinters.
If you're going to dig, you'll use your hands, Osborn growled.
Osborn pointed to a bare patch of ground several yards from the building. The three men stood as if paralyzed. A faint whisper floated over the sound of the surf. Dig.
No one moved.
A crashing wave turned into a terrible, echoing roar from dozens of throats.
Dig.
Wilhand let out a yelp and punched through a window of the Coast Guard station. He climbed inside, cutting his hands badly, and crashed through the dark building, looking for an exit. George and Lou rushed to the spot where Osborn had pointed and began to dig. Though they were quickly fatigued, they found they could not stop, and they dug for an hour or more in the red tinged darkness until they were crouched in the bottom of a wide hole, fingers bloody, bodies exhausted with a loud crash. The lantern shattered as if struck by something heavy, like an oar. When Luke climbed out of the hole, Osborn and the steelmans were gone, as was his wagon, which will hand had taken in his panic. The decoy box they had buried was smashed into pieces against the wall of the Coast Guard station, but there was no sign of the hole they dug to bury it. Lou and George staggered back to town, arriving shortly before dawn. They never stopped looking behind them the whole way, and they never, even in jest, went looking for the steelman treasure again.
Back to you, Jill.
[00:11:46] Speaker A: Thank you, Jennifer. What a chilling lesson in greed. Well, we reached the end of tonight's broadcast. Remember, not all treasure glitters with gold. Some may be cursed with the past that still haunts the present. Until next time, I'm Jill Stanley. This has been a common mystics media production in partnership with access paranormal Radio. Story by Dennis Brose. Want more mystics? Please check out our website, commonmystics.net, comma. Follow us on our socials at Common Mystics podcasts. Listen to common mystics wherever you're hearing your favorite podcast, and please remember to download, like and share. It means so much to us. Good night.
