BY F. L. PUTNEY OF TILDEN

      (239) THE first lawsuit in the county was between the Norfolk Mill Company, as plaintiff, and John W. Skiles, defendant. The action was before D. V. Coe, county judge, and was for the recovery of the sum of $250.00 due for merchandise. This suit was brought before an attorney had settled in the county. The affairs of the mill company were conducted by John Olney as manager. This company for many years controlled the somewhat stinted trade of this period from Stanton to Frenchtown, east and west, and from half way to Sioux City on the north to an equal distance toward Columbus, on the south. The company in addition to the milling business were extensive dealers in merchandise suitable to border life. Here it was that the venturesome homesteader replenished his diminishing supplies before continuing his journey farther west, and here he returned when this supply was exhausted. Thus it was that Norfolk became historic in the early development of northern Nebraska and its business men had an extended acquaintance.

     John Olney was as well known in Antelope County as William B. Lambert or R. G. King became years afterwards in the same line of business. I think I knew every business man in Norfolk in 1872, and now, when there between trains, I get a glimpse of some of these old-timers, side-tracked, vanishing from the memory of the present generation. Yet these grizzled frontiersmen are the survivors of an age that is almost past, the markers and milestones in the beginning of the utter extinction of nature's wildness. Looking into the retrospective, we of that time see that wild expanse of almost unhabitated (240) prairie stretching westward until it finally rolls into billows, losing itself in the lofty peaks of the mountain chains. Far up the trail a lonely deer vanishes in a friendly plum thicket and bands of antelope vanish in the foothills. Vanishing, vanishing, always vanishing. In this mood do I hear a "call to the wild"? Yes, but there is no wild to be called to. Wild life made its last stand on the west bank of the Missouri River. Tragic? Yes. The fauna has disappeared, and the Indian is an alien in his own country.

     The real parties in this first lawsuit were John Olney and Colonel John W. Skiles, though the mill company was plaintiff and Robert I. Skiles was the relator in the injunction proceedings. As both Mr. Olney and Colonel Skiles were characters in different ways, I cannot refrain from a little matter descriptive of them.

     John Olney had a good appearance. He was hotheaded, erratic, impulsive, arrogant, and egotistical; whimsical in methods, and thought himself born to command and not to obey. Counsel that even breathed opposition to his policies was not received by him with the slightest degree of tolerance. To say that Mr. Olney did not have a warm side to his nature would be unjust. There are many families along the Elkhorn to-day, living in affluence, that could hardly have held down "the claim" had not Mr. Olney credited them with the necessities of life.

     Colonel Skiles was the opposite of Mr. Olney in every phase of life. He assumed the airs of a Croesus, when in fact he was a Colonel Sellers. His stature was that of the average man, but symmetrical; his features regular; eyes dark and expressive. His dress, even in those days, was faultless, having a regard for the prevailing fashions. In short, the Colonel was always well attired, from the crown of his Grand Army hat to the soles of his well polished shoes. He was gracious in manner, hypnotic in his urbanity, aristocratic in his tastes, a voluptuary in desire, and a very clever conversationalist. He always spoke in a well modulated tone of voice, suggesting his assumed eugenic (241) origin, but was never offensive. Even now I am enraptured with the melody of his enunciation. I have often regretted that a man so singularly a favorite of nature should have been so lacking in integrity. Flattery was his most effective weapon and but few there were who did not come under his spell.

     Have I given him a prominence not his due? If the reader could understand the delirium of popularity that attached itself to his personality for a few months this elaboration would be excusable. Of all the men who settled in Antelope County in those days, he is the only one that the term adventurer will apply to. He was a colonel in the Civil War, in the command of Rutherford B. Hayes, who afterward became President of the United States, and his left arm had been shot away above the elbow.

     The foundation of this suit was laid when he gave a check on an Ohio bank for two hundred and fifty dollars in payment for merchandise. The check went east, the Colonel went west. The check came back, but the Colonel never did. The check was dishonored. John Olney had a brain storm when this occurred. He employed Jim Keyner, the only attorney in Norfolk at that time, and associated with him Squire Ames, a farmer living up the Elkhorn from Norfolk, who had been a justice of the peace "back in the states," and assumed to be well versed in the law, and proceeded to avenge his wrongs. In the original suit there was no appearance on the part of Skiles, and Keyner and Ames procured judgment by default. If there had been nothing done to collect the judgment this narrative would be void of interest. Olney, however, proceeded to collect his money on the judgment. An execution was issued and was put in the hands of Sheriff Hopkins with instructions to levy on the property of Skiles at all hazards. When the sheriff arrived at the Skiles homestead the Colonel called him aside and informed him that the personal property was his son Robert's, bought with money that Robert had inherited from some namesake (242) in Ohio. However, tales of this kind proved abortive. The sheriff had been fortified with an indemnifying bond and he made the levy and soon the Skiles farm was denuded of its stock, about twenty-five head of cattle and a number of hogs. Later the coroner took possession of the property under a writ of replevin from the sheriff, and afterwards the sheriff got it back and advertised it for sale.

     Here the Colonel's active brain became busy and he remembered that there was an attorney at Shuyler by the name of Butler, who formerly lived in Ohio, and thither Robert I. Skiles directed his steps. This man Butler was a good attorney, shifty in getting the vantage ground, and wily as a fox. I think, under the circumstances, it is proper to notice him in this history. I saw him but once, in Oakdale, in 1874. At this time he must have been at the zenith of his powers. He was about five feet, ten inches in height, rather inclined to obesity. From the dome of his head to the lobes of his ears there was not a stray hair to mar its polished surface. His head was massive; the frontal bone extended so far forward that if eyes ever flashed from out "cavernous depths," they were his. Not so much from my own knowledge, but from what other attorneys said, he was a formidable adversary in the trial of a case. He had not much of the grace of oratory, but talked freely, in a high, rasping voice that affected his hearers disagreeably. In accounting for an attorney of his standing being here on the frontier in those days, it was said that his partner in Ohio wished a dissolution of partnership, but so dreaded Butler's ability that he hesitated, but finally gave him ten thousand dollars, Butler signing an agreement never to practice law again in that state so long as his partner lived. Mr. Butler lived up to his agreement, and his partner dying in the early eighties, Mr. Butler returned to his old home in Ohio, as I understand, taking up the practice of his profession there after years of absence.

     As soon as Butler became acquainted with the facts (243) he hastened to Fremont, where Samuel Maxwell, who was then judge, resided, and procured a restraining order stopping the sale of the stock under the execution. This writ included Jeptha Hopkins, sheriff, John Olney, and Attorney Keyner, and notice was duly served. Government by injunction had not been discussed then as now; the sheriff knew nothing about it; Olney neither knew nor cared at the time. Keyner did not know, and even the oracle, Squire Ames, had but little knowledge of the writ. However, Keyner and Squire Ames proceeded to Mr. Hopkins, labored with him all night, finally overcoming his caution, and the following day the sale proceeded, the mill company buying in all the stock and keeping the same pending further developments.

     It was not long before an attachment was issued and Mr. Hopkins, Mr. Olney, and James Keyner were arraigned before George B. Lake, in chambers at Omaha, for contempt of court. Judge Maxwell, for the time being, was out of the state. The case having gotten in this posture, Mr. Olney secured the services of General Manderson, who afterwards distinguished himself as United States senator. This availed nothing, as it stood out in bold relief that all three were guilty of contempt of court. Mr. Manderson directed his energies to securing a minimum fine and the avoidance of a jail sentence, in which he was joined by Mr. Butler, who had no concern for the lacerated feelings of the court. They showed that but little was known about injunctions along the Elkhorn; that at least Hopkins and Olney had acted on legal advice; and that they never had dreamed of looking upon the court with contempt. All was said that could be said in mitigation of the offense, but judge Lake was not easily mollified. The court had been brought into ridicule; the law outraged; and ignorance of the law was no excuse. Accordingly, he passed sentence that the mill company restore the stock to Robert I. Skiles; pay the costs, amounting to $237.45; pay Robert I. Skiles damages in the sum of $354; and each, (244) Jeptha Hopkins, John Olney, and James Keyner, pay a fine of $250.

     This, so far as I know, ends the history of the first lawsuit in the county, except the return of the stock. It is said that when the mill company returned the stock the Colonel was on hand with his polished shoes and white vest, and that after it had been driven into the yard and the bars put up, the Colonel was profuse in his thanks to the mill company for having kept the stock for his son Robert for quite a year without any expense to him. The total cost to Olney or the mill company of this suit, as appears from the record, is $1,341.45. In addition to this was the loss of the amount due on the judgment without cost, amounting to $250, also the personal expenses and attorney fees. Mr. Olney paid the bill at the bar of triumphant justice, without the quiver of an eye or a word of rebuke. In the presence of the court he was as subdued as a conquered bronco.