Around noon on a bright October day in 1903, some men who were shucking corn on a farm near New Albany, Ind, saw a smart-looking surrey coming down the road.
It was shiny black with red running gear and fringe on top, drawn by a handsome bay horse.
The passengers, all strangers to the men, were three nicely dressed women and a small boy.
After the carriage had passed some distance down the road, it pulled up and stopped beside and unoccupied log cabin on the farm of Robert Abraham.
The passengers got out, proceeded to dig a hole, and buried what appeared to be a box.
After they had left and were well out of sight, one of Abrahman's farm hands, a young man named Harry, was overcome with curiosity.
He went to the site and dug into the hole to see what this was all about.
To his amazement and considerable fright, what he uncovered was a small child's coffin with the simple inscription on the lid: "Our Darling."
Afraid to touch it, he ran to his employer and reported what he had found.
Immediately, the sheriff and the coroner were called.
A further surprise awaited them.
When the lid was raised, the coffin was found to be empty, except for two small bouquets and two knots of white ribbon.
The coffin was nicely lined, and the coroner said that it appeared to have been used.
When the word of the incident spread throughout the neighborhood, no one ever reported having seen any surrey of that description, and such a rig was never seen again.
Who were these women, where did they come from, and where did they go?
There was never a solution to the mystery.
