Maybe he found the “artifacts” on his farm, or on the land of friends. How is it the FBI’s business? They probably just didn’t get their cut. Wonder who squealed on the old guy?
That was my first question. Someone was jealous, I bet.
Funny thing, back in the 40’s and 50’s, there were a few weird artifact-type “makers.” They had mail-order catalogs full of stuff like shrunken heads and weird “stuffed animals” no one had ever heard of. They sold them to carnivals and and curio shops and tourist traps and anyone else that wanted them.
Possibly the last place where you can see stuff of the sort is a place on I-10 in Arizona that houses “The THING.” Mummified Native American remains? Space Alien left on earth? Some poor creature time forgot? Or...What??? (Google it or go to Wikipedia! Fun read!)
Anyway, judging by the descriptions in the story, I’ll bet there’s a real mish-mash of curio junk, fair antiques, and genuine artifacts. Sad thing is, as another FReeper alluded, it’s probably the last he’ll ever see those belongings.
I used to live in Indiana. The field next door was once the site of a significant trading village. Every spring we would walk the field and find all kinds of Indian items. Everyone I knew back then had a collection of some type.