What was true of these towns was true, too, of Albuquerque and Las
Vegas and Tombstone. Each of them chose for peace officers men who were
"sudden death" with a gun. Dodge did exactly the same thing. Even a
partial list of its successive marshals reads like a fighting roster.
In addition to Bridges and Brooks may be named Ed and Bat Masterson,
Wyatt Earp, Billy Tilghman, Ben Daniels, Mysterious Dave Mathers, T. C.
Nixon, Luke Short, Charley Bassett, W. H. Harris, and the Sughrue
brothers, all of them famous as fighters in a day when courage and
proficiency with weapons were a matter of course. On one occasion the
superintendent of the Sante Fe suggested to the city dads of Dodge that
it might be a good thing to employ marshals less notorious. Dodge
begged leave to differ. It felt that the best way to "settle the hash"
of desperadoes was to pit against them fighting machines more
efficient, bad men more deadly than themselves.
The word "bad" does not necessarily imply evil. One who held the
epithet was known as one dangerous to oppose. He was unafraid, deadly
with a gun, and hard as nails. He might be evil, callous, treacherous,
revengeful as an Apache. Dave Mathers fitted this description. He might
be a good man, kindly, gentle, never taking more than his fighting
chance. This was Billy Tilghman to a T.
We are keeping Billy Brooks waiting. But let that go. Let us look first
at "Mysterious Dave." Bob Wright has set it down that Mathers had more
dead men to his credit than any other man in the West. He slew seven by
actual count in one night, in one house, according to Wright. Mathers
had a very bad reputation. But his courage could blaze up
magnificently. While he was deputy marshal word came that the Henry
gang of desperadoes were terrorizing a dance hall. Into that hall
walked Dave, beside his chief Tom Carson. Five minutes later out reeled
Carson, both arms broken, his body shot through and through, a man with
only minutes to live. When the smoke in the hall cleared away Mathers
might have been seen beside two handcuffed prisoners, one of them
wounded. In a circle round him were four dead cowpunchers of the Henry
outfit.
"Uncle" Billy Tilghman died the other day at Cromwell, Oklahoma, a
victim of his own fearlessness. He was shot to death while taking a
revolver from a drunken prohibition agent. If he had been like many
other bad men he would have shot the fellow down at the first sign of
danger. But that was never Tilghman's way. It was his habit to make
arrests without drawing a gun. He cleaned up Dodge during the three
years while he was marshal. He broke up the Doolin gang, killing Bill
Raidler and "Little" Dick in personal duels and capturing Bill Doolin
the leader. Bat Masterson said that during Tilghman's terms as sheriff
of Lincoln County, Oklahoma, he killed, captured, or drove from the
country more criminals than any other official that section ever had.
Yet "Uncle" Billy never used a gun except reluctantly. Time and again
he gave the criminal first shot, hoping the man would surrender rather
than fight. Of all the old frontier sheriffs none holds a higher place
than Billy Tilghman.
After which diversion we return to Billy Brooks, a "gent" of an
impatient temperament, not used to waiting, and notably quick on the
trigger. Mr. Dubbs records that late one evening in the winter of
'72-'73 he returned to Dodge with two loads of buffalo meat. He
finished his business, ate supper, and started to smoke a postprandial
pipe. The sound of a fusillade in an adjoining dance hall interested
him since he had been deprived of the pleasures of metropolitan life
for some time and had had to depend upon Indians for excitement. (
Incidentally,
it may be mentioned that they furnished him a reasonable amount. Not
long after this three of his men were caught, spread-eagled, and
tortured by Indians. Dubbs escaped after a hair-raising ride and
arrived at Adobe Walls in time to take part in the historic defence of
that post by a handful of buffalo hunters against many hundred
tribesmen.
) From the building burst four men. They started across
the railroad track to another dance hall, one frequented by Brooks.
Dubbs heard the men mention the name of Brooks, coupling it with an
oath. Another buffalo hunter named Fred Singer joined Dubbs. They
followed the strangers, and just before the four reached the dance hall
Singer shouted a warning to the marshal. This annoyed the unknown four,
and they promptly exchanged shots with the buffalo hunters. What then
took place was startling in the sudden drama of it.
Billy Brooks stood in bold relief in the doorway, a revolver in each
hand. He fired so fast that Dubbs says the sound was like a company
discharging weapons. When the smoke cleared Brooks still stood in the
same place. Two of the strangers were dead and two mortally wounded.
They were brothers. They had come from Hays City to avenge the death of
a fifth brother shot down by Brooks some time before.
Mr. Brooks had a fondness for the fair sex. He and Browney, the yard
master, took a fancy to the same girl. Captain Drew, she was called,
and she preferred Browney. Whereupon Brooks naturally shot him in the
head. Perversely, to the surprise of everybody, Browney recovered and
was soon back at his old job.
Brooks seems to have held no grudge at him for making light of his
markmanship in this manner. At any rate, his next affair was with Kirk
Jordan, the buffalo hunter.
This was a very different business. Jordan had been in a hundred tight
holes. He had fought Indians time and again. Professional killers had
no terror for him. He threw down his big buffalo gun on Brooks, and the
latter took cover. Barrels of water had been placed along the principal
streets for fire protection. These had saved several lives during
shooting scrapes. Brooks ducked behind one, and the ball from Jordan's
gun plunged into it. The marshal dodged into a store, out of the rear
door, and into a livery stable. He was hidden under a bed. Alas! for a
large reputation gone glimmering. Mr. Brooks fled to the fort, took the
train from the siding, and shook forever the dust of Dodge from his
feet. Whither he departed deponent sayeth not.
How do I explain this? I don't. I record a fact. Many gunmen were at
one time or another subject to these panics during which the yellow
streak showed. Not all of them by any means, but a very considerable
percentage. They swaggered boldly, killed recklessly. Then one day some
quiet little man with a cold gray eye called the turn on them, after
which they oozed out of the surrounding scenery.
Owen P. White gives it on the authority of Charlie Siringo that Bat
Masterson sang small when Clay Allison of the Panhandle, he of the
well-notched gun, drifted into Dodge and inquired for the city marshal.
But the old-timers at Dodge do not bear this out. Bat was at the Adobe
Walls fight, one of fourteen men who stood off five hundred bucks of
the Cheyenne, Comanche, and Kiowa tribes. He scouted for Miles. He was
elected sheriff of Ford County, with headquarters at Dodge when only
twenty-two years of age It was a tough assignment, and Bat executed it
to the satisfaction of all concerned except the element he cowed.
Personally, I never met Bat until his killing days were past. He was
dealing faro at a gambling house in Denver when I, a young reporter,
first had the pleasure of looking into his cold blue eyes. It was a
notable fact that all the frontier bad men had eyes either gray or
blue, often a faded blue, expressionless, hard as jade.
It is only fair to Bat to say that the old-timers of Dodge do not
accept the Siringo point of view about him Wright said of him that he
was absolutely fearless and no trouble hunter. "Bat is a gentleman by
instinct, of pleasant manners, good address, and mild until aroused,
and then, for God's sake, look out. He is a leader of men, has much
natural ability, and good hard common sense. There is nothing low about
him. He is high-toned and broad-minded, cool and brave." I give this
opinion for what it is worth.
In any case, he was a most efficient sheriff. Dave Rudabaugh, later
associated with Billy the Kid in New Mexico, staged a train robbery at
Kinsley, Kansas, a territory not in Bat s jurisdiction. However, Bat
set out in pursuit with a posse. A near-blizzard was sweeping the
country. Bat made for Lovell's cattle camp, on the chance that the
bandits would be forced to take shelter there. It was a good guess.
Rudabaugh's outfit rode in, stiff and half frozen, and Bat captured the
robbers without firing a shot. This was one of many captures Bat made.
He had a deep sense of loyalty to his friends. On two separate
occasions he returned to Dodge, after having left the town, to
straighten out difficulties for his friends or to avenge them. The
first time was when Luke Short, who ran a gambling house in Dodge, had
a difficulty with Mayor Webster and his official family. Luke appears
to have held the opinion that the cards were stacked against him and
that this was a trouble out of which he could not shoot himself. He
wired Bat Masterson and Wyatt Earp to come to Dodge. They did,
accompanied by another friend or two. The mayor made peace on terms
dictated by Short.
Bat's second return to Dodge was caused by a wire from his brother
James, who ran a dance hall in partnership with a man named Peacock.
Masterson wanted to discharge the bartender, Al Updegraph, a
brother-in-law of the other partner. A serious difficulty loomed in the
offing. Wherefore James called for help. Bat arrived at eleven one
sunny morning, another gunman at heel. At three o'clock he entrained
for Tombstone, Arizona, James beside him. The interval had been a busy
one. On the way up from the station (
always known then as the depot
),
the two men met Peacock and Updegraph. No amenities were exchanged. It
was strictly business. Bullets began to sing at once. The men stood
across the street from each other and emptied their weapons. Oddly
enough, Updegraph was the only one wounded. This little matter attended
to, Bat surrendered himself, was fined three dollars for carrying
concealed weapons, and released. He ate dinner, disposed of his
brother's interest in the saloon, and returned to the station.
Bat Masterson was a friend of Theodore Roosevelt, who was given to
admiring men with "guts," such men as Pat Garrett, Ben Daniels, and
Billy Tilghman. Mr. Roosevelt offered Masterson a place as United
States Marshal of Arizona. The ex-sheriff declined it. "If I took it,"
he explained, "inside of a year I'd have to kill some fool boy who
wanted to get a reputation by killing me." The President then offered
Bat a place as Deputy United States Marshal of New York, and this was
accepted. From that time Masterson became a citizen of the Empire
State. For seventeen years he worked on a newspaper there and died a
few years since with a pen in his hand. He was respected by the entire
newspaper fraternity.
Owing to the pleasant habit of the cowboys of shooting up the town they
were required, when entering the city limits, to hand over their
weapons to the marshal. The guns were deposited at Wright &
Beverly's store, in a rack built for the purpose, and receipts given
for them. Sometimes a hundred six-shooters would be there at once.
These were never returned to their owners unless the cowboys were
sober.
To be a marshal of one of these fighting frontier towns was no post to
be sought for by a supple politician. The place called for a chilled
iron nerve and an uncanny skill with the Colt. Tom Smith, one of the
gamest men and best officers who ever wore a star on the frontier, was
killed in the performance of his duty. Colonel Breakenridge says that
Smith, marshal of Abilene before "Wild Bill," was the gamest man he
ever knew. He was a powerful, athletic man who would arrest, himself
unarmed, the most desperate characters. He once told Breakenridge that
anyone could bring in a dead man but it took a good officer to take
lawbreakers while they were alive. In this he differed from Hickok who
did not take chances. He brought his men in dead. Nixon, assistant
marshal at Dodge, was murdered by "Mysterious Dave" Mathers, who
himself once held the same post. Ed Masterson, after displaying
conspicuous courage many times, was mortally wounded April 9, 1878, by
two desperate men, Jack Wagner and Alf Walker, who were terrorizing
Front Street. Bat reached the scene a few minutes later and heard the
story. As soon as his brother had died Bat went after the desperadoes,
met them, and killed them both. The death of Ed Masterson shocked the
town. Civic organizations passed resolutions of respect. During the
funeral, which was the largest ever held in Dodge, all business houses
were closed. It is not on record that anybody regretted the demise of
the marshal's assassins.
Among those who came to Dodge each season to meet the Texas cattle
drive were Ben and Bill Thompson, gamblers who ran a faro bank.
Previously they had been accustomed to go to Ellsworth, while that
point was the terminus of the drive. Here they had ruled with a high
hand, killed the sheriff, and made their getaway safely. Bill got into
a shooting affray at Ogalala. He was badly wounded and was carried to
the hotel. It was announced openly that he would never leave town
alive. Ben did not dare to go to Ogalala, for his record there had
outlawed him. He came to Bat Masterson.
Bat knew Bill's nurse and arranged a plan for campaign. A sham battle
was staged at the big dance hall, during the excitement of which Bat
and the nurse carried the wounded man to the train, got him to a
sleeper, and into a bed. Buffalo Bill met them next day at North
Platte. He had relays of teams stationed on the road, and he and Bat
guarded the sick man during the long ride, bringing him safely to
Dodge.
Emanuel Dubbs ran a roadhouse not far from Dodge about this time. He
was practising with his six-shooter one day when a splendidly built
young six-footer rode up to his place. The stranger watched him as he
fired at the tin cans he had put on fence posts. Presently the young
fellow suggested he throw a couple of the cans up in the air. Dubbs did
so. Out flashed the stranger's revolvers. There was a roar of exploding
shots. Dubbs picked up the cans. Four shots had been fired. Two bullets
had drilled through each can.