|Early summer, a few days before our country school closed for the summer vacation, Angel and I returned home. Angel went into the house, and I just had to see what gramps was doing. He had removed the grassy top layer from a large square area of back yard and was digging out the inside of the square. I asked what he was doing. He said 'digging'. So, I waited for the explanation I knew was coming. 'Gonna put in a septic tank', gramps explained.|
I watched him dig awhile, then turned to go in the house. Gramp's 'well, looky here' stopped me in my tracks. I turned to see him rubbing something on his shirt sleeve. Then he grinned and held up a shiny silver dollar. ' I wonder if this could be the loot from the stagecoach robbery near here, back in Jesse Jame's time'. I was hooked. 'Wow'. My eyes must have been as big as that silver dollar. 'kin I help dig', I asked. He gave me his spade instructing me to dig evenly across the hole, throw the dirt away from the edge a bit, keep the sides straight, don't let them taper in, yadayada.
Gramps went in the house, came back with a bottle of beer, sat himself down in the shade of our workshop/tool shed, rolled a smoke and watched. Suppertime came. I eagerly ran in to eat, wolfing down a few bites of everything and rushing back to digging. Gramps came in to eat as I was heading back out.
A few shovels of dirt and I heard a 'thunk' from my spade. With mounting excitement, I uncovered a piece of board. On picking it up, a silver dime lay under the board, gleaming up at me. I was so excited I almost peed. Gramps inspected the coin, looked over the board and told how robbers held up a stage further up the road from our place. They had to bury the strongbox because it was too heavy to tote and posse would soon be coming. That piece of board must be from the strongbox.
I dug furiously until after dark. Mom called me to come in. 'Ok mom, just a few more shovels'. About an hour later dad yelled out the back door, ' Hop,git your butt in here'. On entering the kitchen, I noted all the family was gathered at the kitchen table, trying their best not to laugh. Even Ike. Slowly it dawned on me. There never was a stagecoach robbery. Gramps just wanted to see how much of his work he could get me to do. I've been duped. Gramps held up his silver dollar, cackled and shook his head. All I had was a dime for digging away the evening.
Fun times, those.
Submitted By: Hoppy from IA on 2009-11-11