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"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 defense 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.
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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
marksmanship 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.
Continued
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