The Old Recluse

A certain old recluse lived deep in the mountains of Colorado. When he died, certain relatives came from the city to collect his valuables. Upon arriving, all they saw was an old shack with an outhouse beside it. Inside the shack, next to the rock fireplace, was an old cooking pot and his mining equipment. A cracked table with a three-legged chair stood guard by a tiny window, and a kerosene lamp served as the centerpiece for the table. In a dark corner of the little room was a dilapidated cot with a threadbare bedroll on it.
They picked up some of the old relics and started to leave. As they were driving away, an old friend of the recluse, on his mule, flagged them down. "Do you mind if I help myself to what's left in my friend's cabin?" He asked.
"Go right ahead," they replied. After all, they thought, what inside that shack could be worth anything?
The old friend entered the shack and walked directly over to the table. He reached under it and lifted one of the floorboards. He then proceeded to take out all the gold his friend had discovered over the past 53 years -- enough to have built a palace. The recluse died with only his friend knowing his true worth.
As the friend looked out of the little window and watched the cloud of dust behind the relative's car disappear, he said, "They shoulda got to know him better."

From an email I recieved