The Treasure Of Millie's Wharf

Personal notice, dangerous my stock and trade. If the job's too tough for you to handle, you got a job for me, George Valentine. Right full to tail. Standard Oil Company of California on behalf of independent chevron gas stations and standard stations throughout the West invite you to let George do it.

The treasure of Millie's Wharf, another adventure of George Valentine. Dear sir, Mr. Valentine, dear Mr.... Oh, but what will I say? What will I write? How can I ever tell how exciting it is?

This is the town of Millie's Wall. Yes, Millie's Wall. And dear sir, my name is Millie. And as my poor husband used to say... How did I know you're skinny cock-eyed, famous bird? Oh, now did I hurt him, little feelings, poor, dumb little parrot.

Can't talk back. They're there, Cupid. Cupid? And I'm just getting caught, I really serve it all. There's a Valentine! Nothing ever happens in Millie's war. At least not since my last husband died, and that was years ago.

Nobody of any importance lives here anymore, but here we are, situated on the historical old bay of Ireland. Yesterday, when I was born picking blueberries, my parrot, whose name is Cupid, and who sees things and whose wings aim clips so he can fly, stole something.

I don't know where he got it or how, but it's a map. Here in this place where the Spanish ships used to come, and on the map is a mark. But why would anyone put a mark at a place under water?

Yes, out behind one of the islands where it's easy to found them. On this map there are arrows and directions and a great big red egg. A map, Mr. Valentine, and something under water, and an egg to mark the thought.