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Tombstone Epitaph, April 19, 1934
By Fred Sutton
Some have stated Mr. Fred Sutton is a "creditable source." Be careful.
"Gunmen I Have Known"
The first half of my life was spent in the old-west, which was the home of the gunmen, both within and without the law. I was thrown with them, knew them intimately and studied them closely as to their character, nerve, manner of handling and kind of guns carried by them.
Dodge City Marshal Bill Tilghman
One of the first and best I knew was Bill Tilghman, who took me from Atchinson to Dodge City when he was City Marshal. Bill, as were all the gunmen I knew, was a mild mannered, blue-eyed blond. He never dissipated in any manner, never got excited mad, rattled or in a hurry. He carried the regular army model Colt 45, worn rather low on his hips, and when in action held them well in front with his elbows at his side. He was not a fanner, thumber, or fancy shot, but cool, calm and deadly. He was a peace officer for a half a century and was finally killed by a drunken prohibition officer, who was posing as a friend at Cromwell, Oklahoma.
Bat Masterson
Another was Bat Masterson who was my friend from 1878, until he died at his desk in New York City. As A gunman, Bat was rather picturesque. Wore a pair of Colts given him by Ned Buntline, who had them made to order with ten inch barrel and ivory handles and called them the "Buntline Special." The long barrel slowed him a little on the draw, but he usually started a little early, which gave him an even break with the other fellow. He took some pains to show me how to handle myself and gun if I should be called upon to do some shooting. he always said, "Fred, pack a 45, for they will stop a man even if it don't kill him. Always aim between the belt buckle and his collar button, and never reach for your own gun unless you are going to use it right then." Bat was an early day Sheriff at Dodge City, the cowboy capital. Always cool, courageous, a good shot and very nervy.
Wyatt Earp
I knew Wyatt Earp at Dodge, but was with him later at Tombstone, where I learned to respect him as a gun-fighting officer. Saw him in action several times and don't think he ever took so undue advantage of anyone. He carried a pair of 45 Colts, Inslay (?) models, (Which I think the best ever made) hunk low and tied down to prevent sticking. These guns are now in the property of R.C. Jenkins of Okaras, Indiana. I have read very unkind things about Wyatt Earp, but if I wanted to I couldn't say he was other than on the square. He was "shot gun rider" for the Wells Fargo Company, Sheriff, United Stated Marshal and Chief of Police for many years. He was a careful and accurate man with a gun and rid the frontier of many of its would-be bad men: who prided themselves with having removed the trigger from their gun in order to best the other fellow to it. Wyatt Earp was a good man within the law. He died January 1930, in California aged 82.
Luke Short
Luke Short, who left Kansas City for Dodge City to be a farobank dealer, was a dapper, well dressed little blond, with blue eyes of the gunfighter--quiet, peaceful, with a chilled steel nerve and a fast and deadly shot when the situation justified. A Texas killer once called him a name that is considered a blow in that state and Luke said, "--"When you call me that name you must smile or wear your guns, for I don't like to have trouble with one who is ungunned." The killer left saying--"I will be back in a minute," which he did without a smile, but a gun in each hand. As he entered the door he repeated the remark that reflected in Short's ancestry and fired one shot which hit the dealing box in front of Luke's stomach and glanced out the window. The gambler seeing no smile on the face of the patron from the Lone Star State, unlimbered his 45 and there was one less "saddle buster" to go back down the trail. "I told him to smile" was the only comment of the faro dealer and the game was on as usual.
Henry Starr
Henry Starr, the Cherokee outlaw was a good shot with either hand, but never used his left if he could help it. He shot well from the back of a horse, but it was all bunk about him hitting every fence post while his horse was on the run. He robbed two banks at one time in Stroud, Oklahoma and while making his getaway was shot from his horse by a boy with an old Ballard rifle; he fell from his horse with a gun in each hand, and the boy, who was badly excited, ran up to him. Starr looked at him and threw his guns away. "Kid, I ought to kill you you, but I have never yet killed any children." I knew and liked Henry Starr, for he was a scholar and a gentleman, as well as one of the best shots and most nervy outlaws of the old Indian Territory. The last time I saw him was in the lobby of the Baltimore Hotel in Kansas City; and, as I bid him good-bye, he said, " Fred, you are saying good-bye to a damn fool." He was killed the next week by a banker he was trying to rob.
J.H. Holliday
who was known as "Dock"--was said to be the coolest hearted killer of the frontier--had many notches to his credit, most of which were gained via the shot gun route. He carried a short gun hung by a strap to his right shoulder and was an artist in getting it into action. He was a close friend of Earp, Masterson, Short, and Tighman, who used to excuse his promiscuous shooting because he had consumption and was trying to get his mind on other things. he literally shot his way through life and at his funeral a friend remarked, "We will surely miss Dock at Tombstone and Abeline." Another replied, " We surely will, for he was the most vivid invalid and the most abrupt hombre with a gun that I ever crossed up with--he was so." Dock was a good shot and knew not the word fear.
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