Chapter 27

Tuesday flew by, there was nothing worth talking about, at school it was just another day. I did get teased a little by Tom Humphreys about typing my homework paper. Everyone knew that girls did the typing.

My response was a very mature, “Your mother wears combat boots.”

He came back with a better, “Yep, and she’s going to kick your butt.”

We both laughed at that and parted with no problems.

After school, the routine of the day continued, with us kids translating into Spanish signs you would see while driving. The Burma Shave signs were hilarious.

After Denny and Eddie finished their chore of doing the dishes, with only the normal amount of whining by Eddie, they went to watch TV. Mary was playing dolls in with the boys. Mum drank her tea while Dad and I had an after-dinner cup of coffee.

Mum handed Dad an envelope and said, “The gas well royalty check came today.”

Dad opened it and stated, “Seventy four dollars the same as last year.”

I dimly remembered talk of the check from other years but had never paid attention.

“What is the deal with a gas well?”

Dad related that it started a long time ago in 1847. One of your great-great-great grandfathers on my mother’s side by the name of John Butts was released from the Ohio State Penitentiary on a technicality.

He had been convicted of first-degree murder and two counts of manslaughter. They didn’t establish the degree of manslaughter so he was released. Family legend has it that he was attacked in his own home by slave chasers, who were trying to rob him.”

“He was a known abolitionist and they were hunting for hidden slaves, or just plain wanted to rob him. What they didn’t realize you don’t break into the house of a blacksmith who kept an ax under his bed.”

“He was railroaded into jail as southern Ohio was pro-slavery at the time.”

“Wow, I thought getting off on technicalities was a modern thing.”

“It has been happening since lawyers existed and probably before they were even called lawyers Rick,” Dad replied.

“Once he was released he left Ohio and went to California by ship around Cape Horn. He joined the gold rush in 1849. He later returned to Ohio and purchased land in Morgan County where his family lived.”

“It descended down to two of my bachelor Uncles who both died in 1935. The federal government forced a sale by the family, as they were putting together a national forest. However, the family was allowed to keep the oil, gas and mineral rights for ninety-nine years. Those rights will expire in 2034.”

“There is a small natural gas well pumping on the property. As one of one hundred and nineteen descendants, I get a royalty check every year. So we are getting money from the California gold rush.”

“That is really neat!”

“Yes it is Rick, but the money was obtained by a known killer. Is it blood money?”

“Does it matter after so long,” I asked?

“Not really, but it does make you think and it is a heckuva good yarn to tell and the best part is it is all true. There is no give or take a lie or two in this story.”

“Do we know anything about the trial?”

Dad replied, “Unfortunately no, my Aunt Merle tried to obtain the court trial records, but the Ohio counties were combined and subdivided so many times that she never found them. She did get a copy of the warden’s description from when he was the prison. I will show it to you someday. It could be a description of me.”

“That is really weird. I wonder if anything is buried down on that old farm.”

“We will have to check the place out someday. I think I could still find where the buildings were. The government tore everything down after they bought the land. I remember the area well because we summered there and used to play in the old Conestoga wagon that your grandmother came back from Kansas in.”

“Tell me more!”

“Some other time Rick, I’ve had a long day.”

When I went to bed my head was spinning. I had Indians and the California gold rush running around in my head. There was a century-old theft from Blackhoof’s house to wonder about; was there anything hidden on the old farm and if so how would we find it. This was better than any story I could read. I wondered what my dreams would be like.

When I awoke Wednesday morning it was to another six inches of snow and no dreams. This time we all listened to the radio for school closings. The county schools were closed for the day and the kids who rode buses to Bellefontaine had the day off but us city kids had to walk.

Life is very unfair. I cleared the driveway so Dad could get the car out. He was going to drive us to school. The snow was still coming down hard with no sign of letting up.