Dodge City

by Clavin, Tom

  That wasn’t enough for Webster, Deger, and the other “reformers,” some of whom had been deputized by Bridges. They were now riding roughshod over the town government and what had once been a pretty impartial law-enforcement system. Short and his gambler pals were viewed as a reminder of past evils as well as future rivals. Best to be rid of them altogether; so a couple of days after his assault arrest, Luke was again taken into custody. Five friends shared his cell. They were charged as being “undesirables,” which sounded more like a social gaffe than a crime. Even so, they were not allowed to see lawyers. The six prisoners may have felt their necks itching as they wondered how far the reformers would go.

  One morning, a group of deputies and others recruited for the task showed up at the jail and escorted the six men out of it and through town to the train station. Webster and Deger may have recognized how fitting it was that the railroad would remove the problem from Dodge City. The men were told it didn’t matter which way they went, they should just get on a train. Three men chose to head west. Luke Short, accompanied by two others, took the eastbound train, to Kansas City.

  From there he sent a telegram to Bat Masterson. Luke Short’s wire found him in Denver. Ever loyal to friends, Bat hopped on a train and joined Luke in Kansas City, where he also found his old undersheriff, Charlie Bassett, who had been helping his brother at a saloon there. Bat’s advice was that Luke should head to Topeka and plead his case to the governor of Kansas. George Washington Glick was an opponent of prohibition, which appeared to be what the reformers in Dodge City were trying to impose. While Luke was on that mission, Bat’s would be to round up supporters in case the governor failed to act.

  Luke would learn that Governor Glick was already aware that things might get out of hand there. A Kansas City newspaper reported that “prominent Kansas City attorneys left to-day for Topeka to petition Gov. Glick in the interest of Dodge City property owners that the town be placed under martial law.” It further informed readers, “The place is practically in the hands of the ‘vigilantes’ and the situation is more serious. The trains are watched and armed men guard the town while a list of others who would be ordered out has been prepared. Every source of reliable information indicates that Dodge is now in the hands of desperadoes [and] the lives and property of the citizens are by no means safe.”

  Luke did petition the governor, who in turn wired George Hinkle, still the sheriff of Ford County, requesting his view of the situation. Hinkle responded that it had been blown all out of proportion, and if need be he could take on any troublemakers. Glick was not convinced, but he was reluctant to send a contingent of Kansas militia to Dodge City and round all the reformers up. He suggested to Luke that he return to Dodge City under the protection of the governor and with a ten-day grace period, during which he would settle up his business affairs and leave.

  This was not a smart suggestion. The Kansas City Evening Star emphasized that after the ouster of Short and other business rivals of the Webster/Deger faction, “vigilantes took possession of the town.” A reporter in Dodge City sent by The Chicago Times had been warned not to send any telegrams notifying his newspaper of what was transpiring, and “a body of armed men watched the arrival of each train to see that there was no interference. That there will be trouble of a very serious character there, is anticipated.”

  Luke was no rube. He saw the grace period as a death sentence. He would return to Dodge City, all right, but not alone. Once more, he sent a telegram to Bat Masterson.

  Within days, Bat was back in Kansas City, and rendezvousing with him, Luke, and Bassett there were Wyatt Earp, Doc Holliday, and others with a thirst for a new adventure in old surroundings. Getting wind of this, The Kansas City Journal predicted “a great tragedy” once these tough men answered the call, referring to Bat as “one of the most dangerous men the West has ever produced,” adding, “For the good of the state of Kansas, it is hoped the governor will prevent violence.”

  Given that the two years since the Gunfight at the O.K. Corral had not been easy ones, Wyatt was not fixing for a new gunfight. But when Bat’s telegram found him in Colorado, working full-time as a faro dealer, because his code called for not letting a friend down, he made ready for his return to Dodge City to make sure Luke Short received a fair shake.

  Wyatt may have looked forward to him and Bat setting things right in Dodge City again, to experience once more having each other’s back. Most of the time in the “old” days, the good guys had won. Here was another opportunity. But Luke Short’s troubles meant the good guys weren’t winning. The ending in Dodge City had yet to be written. The six-shooters on their belts might be the pens that would do it. More old acquaintances flocked to Kansas City or headed directly to Dodge City to follow Bat and Wyatt.

  If Webster and Deger and their armed supporters weren’t yet aware of the force being arrayed against them, it had to be an unpleasant surprise when words drifted west that gathering in Kansas City were Wyatt, Bat, Doc, Luke, Bassett, Shotgun Collins, Rowdy Joe Lowe, and like-minded adventurers and that they were armed and ready for action. Newspapers in several major cities reported on the imminent “Dodge City War.”

  The Kansas City Evening Star had a ringside seat, and it told readers that “those who are acquainted with the party and their disposition are at no hesitancy in predicting that there is going to be trouble of a bloody nature if resistance is offered to Short’s return.” It further reported that when Hinkle “learned of this threat from Kansas City, he gathered a posse to meet all incoming trains.” The Daily Commonwealth of Topeka chimed in, “The plan is to drive all of Short’s enemies out of Dodge at the mouth of the revolvers.”

  Several accounts have Wyatt traveling to Dodge City before the others. The Daily Commonwealth even confided that “Doc Holliday and Wyatt Earp are now secretly in Dodge City, watching matters,” and when showdown time came, a telegram would be sent to the others containing a coded message. This was as silly as it was untrue. Wyatt did go to Dodge City, accompanied by Dan Tipton, Johnny Green, Texas Jack Vermillion, and Johnny Millsap. It is not known why Doc did not make the trip. One possibility is that he may have been too ill to be of much good should there be a showdown. It was reported—more accurately—that Bat and Luke had stayed behind to welcome supporters who were still trickling in from all over the West.

  According to Wyatt’s recollection offered to Stuart Lake, waiting for him and his group when they stepped off the train from Kansas City was Prairie Dog Dave Morrow, who was a member of the police force. Wyatt was thirty-five then, still lean and handsome with his blond hair and dark mustache, wearing a black vest, coat, hat, trousers, and a crisp white shirt. If he had to return to Dodge City for some unofficial lawing, he wanted to make an immediate impression.

  Prairie Dog, not at all happy that he was the only lawman who had shown up at the station, had a choice: try to disarm the men who were weighed down by rifles and six-shooters, or listen to what Wyatt had to say. Wyatt said he did not want trouble, he was there only to see that his friend Luke Short was treated like everyone else. If Morrow would deputize him and his companions, that would resolve the problem of carrying guns in public. He may not have had the legal authority to actually do that, but Prairie Dog saw the wisdom of Wyatt’s way, and Dodge City had five new deputies.

  Wyatt directed his men to take up lookout stations in case the Webster-Deger alliance was dismayed about the sudden expansion of the police force. They sure were. According to Bat, “It finally became whispered about that Wyatt Earp had a strong force of desperate men. When [Webster] learned that he had been trapped by Earp, he hunted up the sheriff and prosecuting attorney and sent a hurry-up telegram to the governor.” They begged the governor for two companies of militia or “a great tragedy would be enacted on the streets of Dodge City.”

  When the next train arrived, it carried Bassett, Collins, Frank McLain, and others. There was no need to deputize them, because no local lawman could be found to greet them. Wyatt would h
ave to go look for one. He sauntered to Deger’s office and told the sweating marshal, “Bat will arrive at noon tomorrow, and upon [his] arrival we expect to open up hostilities.”

  “News” spread fast. One report being passed among Dodge City residents was that ruthless men, including Dirty Sock Jack, Cold Chuck Johnny, Black Jack Bill, and Dynamite Sam were also on their way to Dodge City to back Wyatt up. And about the former lawman himself, The Kansas City Journal was colorfully reporting that Wyatt “is equally famous in the cheerful business of depopulating the country. He has killed within our personal knowledge six men, and he is popularly credited with relegating to the dust no less than ten of his fellow men.”

  When Luke Short, the reason for all the fuss, arrived, The Kansas City Evening Star reporter informed that “he slung a 6-shooter on each hip, and with a double barreled shot gun in his hands, walked down the street to the Long Branch saloon, carefully watching the corners.” He also announced to anyone within earshot that Bat Masterson was on his way.

  The Dodge City Times would later report, “For a number of days the city was like a powder magazine, the slightest spark would have caused a concussion fearful in consequences and revolting in details.”

  All this was a lot more than Mayor Deger had bargained for, and even Sheriff Hinkle found his former confidence evaporating. With some satisfaction, Glick rejected the feverish request for troops. He wired back that instead he would dispatch Thomas Moonlight, his adjutant general, to Dodge City to size up the situation. When Webster and Deger heard about this, they realized their goose was cooked. Within hours, their vigilante followers melted away.

  As promised, Bat arrived, carrying a loaded shotgun, and Wyatt greeted him at the station. There were at least fifty men in town now ready to back their play. It was time to take back Dodge City.

  For purely dramatic purposes, it would be wonderful to describe the wild shoot-out that followed, one that would make the Battle of the Plaza or the Gunfight at the O.K. Corral pale in comparison. And where better could it take place than Dodge City, whose law-and-order system emerged after the high body count of its first years.

  But Webster and his supporters wanted to live, not die in a blaze of bullets. As Bat later described events, “The Mayor called a hasty meeting of his friends, and after they had all assembled in City Hall, he informed them of what he had heard about the Earp invasion. Anyone who was present at the meeting could easily see that anything BUT a fight was what the Mayor and his friends were looking for, now that a fight was not altogether improbable.”

  Harris and Webster pulled Wyatt and Bat aside and told them that Luke could stay in Dodge City and return to what he was doing. Gambling could resume in all the saloons as long as the gaming rooms were screened off from the barrooms and dance halls. Women would be welcome in the saloons. Without exactly doing so, the former mayor apologized for all the inconvenience he and Deger and their supporters had caused.

  Wyatt consulted with Bat and the others, then responded that this return to normal was fine with them. Bat had arrived fully loaded and expecting a furious fight, but he later wrote that “if at any time they did ‘don the war paint,’ it was completely washed off before I reached here.” To his observation, and with a touch of sarcasm, Bat contended that most of the people in Dodge City “hailed the return of Short and friends with exultant joy.”

  When Moonlight, the governor’s emissary, arrived all was well. To be on the safe side he formed a group composed of friends of Webster’s and friends of Luke’s and dubbed them “Glick’s Guards.” Such a committee could settle disputes instead of needing a nail-biting confrontation. Eight members of what had been dubbed, with some tongue in cheek, the Dodge City Peace Commission—Wyatt, Bat, Bassett, Frank McLain, W. F. Petillon, Neil Brown, William Harris, and Luke—posed for a photograph on June 7. Luke invited everyone for a drink, and the following day most of the old acquaintances began to go their separate ways.

  The Ford County Globe “regretted” the peaceful conclusion to the war, according to its June 12 editorial: “To make this abrupt settlement is very agreeable to our people, but rather rough on the press at large which has so gloriously feasted on our misfortune, to be so ingloriously cut off from publishing any further soul-stirring scenes from the late battlefield of Dodge City.”

  A rather deflated Deger continued as mayor, but perhaps soured by the experience or afraid of being someone else’s rather large target, he did not remain a public servant the rest of his life. After marrying Etta Engleman in Dodge City, he relocated to Velasco, Texas, near the mouth of the Brazos River, and operated a lumber company. In 1898, when government pay became enticing again, he secured the position of postmaster, and he held on to it for sixteen years. He and Etta and their daughter, Bessie, moved on to Houston. Lawrence Deger died there in 1924 at the ripe age of eighty-nine.

  Luke Short could have continued to enjoy the gambling and other charms of Dodge City indefinitely, but he chose not to. Later that year, in November, he sold his share of the Long Branch and relocated to Fort Worth. He opened a new saloon, the White Elephant, in that Texas town, and with the subsequent profits he invested in brothels and other gambling operations. When Fort Worth reformers outlawed gambling, Luke simply became more discreet and his revenue stream kept flowing.

  Like Doc Holliday, Luke was a heavy drinker who had the deserved reputation as a hot-tempered gunslinger. Unlike Doc, Luke could shoot straight. One day in 1887, he was approached by Longhair Jim Courtright, a former Fort Worth marshal who was shaking down illegal saloon owners for protection money. Luke told him to get lost. Longhair Jim jerked his gun and was pulling the hammer back when Luke shot his thumb off. When the ex-lawman went for a second gun, Luke shot three more times, killing him. Three years later another man, Charles Wright, tried to take over Luke’s business interests. He too died from gunshot wounds.

  There is a postscript to the White Elephant killing of Courtright. When the ex-marshal entered the saloon, the by-then-well-traveled Bat Masterson was sitting with Luke. “It was not a parley that he came for, but a fight,” Bat observed. A grand jury would not indict Luke after he spent a night in jail. But Bat feared that one night could be the last one for Luke because he overheard friends of Courtright planning to lynch the prisoner. As soon as the sun set, Bat showed up at the jail, and with the sheriff’s permission he conspicuously sat out front, his ivory-handled six-shooters prominently displayed. Any men who approached the building that night just kept walking.

  On a happier note, Luke had gotten married in March 1887, to Harriet Beatrice Buck, in Oswego, Kansas. There were only six years of wedded bliss, however. It was not a gunman but his own unhealthy habits that caught up with Luke Short. In September 1893, while seeking relief from various ailments at a mineral spa in Geuda Springs, Kansas, he died of dropsy, or Bright’s disease. He was only thirty-nine years old, and was buried in Oakwood Cemetery in Fort Worth, Texas.

  By this time, Dodge City had found itself settling into early middle age, far from being the wickedest city in the West. In November 1883, the same month that Luke sold his interest in the Long Branch and left town, Patrick Sughrue was elected sheriff of Ford County, replacing Hinkle. The following April, George Hoover was elected mayor, and he chose Bill Tilghman to be the new marshal. He helped to insure that the rowdy hurrahing days were over.

  As Odie B. Faulk put it, “By 1885, the boom period was ending—and with it the gunfighting, gambling, prostitution, and fist fighting that had characterized Dodge City. Several factors in combination forced the city to become what several editors had been demanding for years: civilized.”

  THIRTY-ONE

  Notoriety has been the bane of my life.

  —WYATT EARP

  As Wyatt and Bat and other members of the Peace Commission went their separate ways, much of the frontier was giving way to the same civilizing forces affecting Dodge City. That same year, 1883, Buffalo Bill Cody staged his first Wild West show, in Omaha, Nebraska. O
ver the years it and similar extravaganzas and relentless dime-store novelists following in Ned Buntline’s ink-stained steps would provide the public with their versions of what the frontier had once been.

  That year also saw the last mass killing of buffalo in the United States. One of the participants was Theodore Roosevelt. This was the last blow that put the American bison close to extinction. By then, even Buffalo Bill was calling for protection of the animal, but it would still be years before adequate preservation efforts took hold. One of their champions would be President Roosevelt, who by then was friends with the former buffalo hunter Bat Masterson.

  The cowboy way of life was nearing extinction, too. Fewer cattle drives meant fewer jobs for trail riders, and wages were low for pretty much anything cowboys did. In the Texas Panhandle in 1883, two hundred of them attempted to strike as the spring rodeo season was about to begin. A ranchers cooperative easily broke their resistance.

  After escorting Morgan Earp’s body to California in March 1882, Virgil and Allie had decided to remain in Colton. As he recuperated, he was able to get regular medical attention in San Francisco. In an interview with the San Francisco Examiner that May, Virgil explained what had led to the now-famous gunfight in Tombstone: “My brother Wyatt and myself were fairly well treated for a time, but when the desperate characters who were congregated there, and who had been unaccustomed to troublesome molestation by the authorities, learned that we meant business and were determined to stop their rascality if possible, they began to make it warm for us.”

  When Virgil was arrested in August for operating a faro game, it was apparent he was seeking more than treatment in San Francisco. Perhaps best to stick to lawing, or something like it, even with a crippled left arm. He opened a detective agency in Colton, and in 1886 he was elected constable there, with his seventy-three-year-old father being justice of the peace. The following year, Virgil became the city’s marshal. But in 1893, now fifty and no doubt to Allie’s dismay, he became restless.