In February of 1910, a watchman knocked on the door to inquire of the proprietor's orders for the day, as he was instructed to do. Entering the decrepit mansion, he discovered John Bone's frozen corpse sitting erect in the sole chair in the house, by a window overlooking the now-silent rendering works. The heat had failed; the pipes had burst; John Bone froze to death.
Later that same day, Henry Blackstone, an attorney in Stapleton, opened John Bone's will; he was astonished at what he read.
First, there was to be a grand funeral and memorial service followed by interment in a grand mausoleum to be constructed on the site of the rendering works.
Second, the residual of Bone's estate, consisting of the substantial accumulated profits of the rendering works, was to be invested according to Bone's explicit plan. In an attachment, Bone had spelled out exactly how the estate should be invested in the most prominent companies of 1905. Unfortunately, due to ill health and memory loss, he had neglected to update the list since then, and several of the companies had fared poorly in the Panic of 1907. Nevertheless, the will was clear: no changes to the investments were permitted.
Finally, the estate should be placed into a tontine trust, such that the income would be used exclusively for maintenance on the mausoleum, and the entire principal of the trust should pass to Bone's last surviving heir.
Mr. Blackstone was confused when he read this, because he didn't think that Bone had any heirs. But then he read on:
I have no legitimate sons, but many bastard sons. I have no idea how many. As a practical matter, the trustees will accept the claim of any man over the age of forty-three who has no known father, but whose mother lived in these parts. The residual principal of my estate shall pass to my last surviving bastard son, provided that he maintain residence in Ticklish Rock, and care for my mausoleum.Upon reading the will, Mr. Blackstone placed an advertisement in the local newspapers. About two hundred men, all over the age of forty-three, appeared at the Stapleton Opera House for a meeting of prospective heirs.
Mr. Blackstone addressed the crowd: "All of you are here because you wish to make a claim on the estate of John Bone. I shall now read the terms."
There was a brief commotion in the crowd, and a call for silence. "You must live in Ticklish Rock". Immediately, several dozen men left, cursing. Ticklish Rock had a reputation as a haunted and smelly place.
"Only the last surviving among you shall inherit". There was another angry commotion in the crowd as each man eyed the others suspiciously. More than half the crowd, the older and weaker half, left the building. There now were about seventy-five men remaining.
"Any man who leaves Ticklish Rock shall forfeit his claim. I shall visit periodically for inspection. Good luck."
The next day there was a grand requiem mass and memorial service at the site of the mausoleum, attended by Mr. Blackstone and the seventy-five claimants.
Some say that the performance of the Verdi Requiem by full orchestra and chorus was one of the finest ever. Few knew, because few attended.
