by Robyn Corum
Micha, the oldest man in the group, had a beautiful baritone voice and his songs accompanied them wherever they went. In the dark evenings, when all was silent, his voice was a peaceful, dreamy background to the men’s thoughts.
As the three men crossed the state of Kansas, Micah sang:
In a cavern, in a canyon,
Excavating for a mine
Dwelt a miner forty-niner,
And his daughter Clementine
Oh my darling, oh my darling,
Oh my darling, Clementine!
Thou art lost and gone forever
Dreadful sorry, Clementine
Boone, Jake, and Micah rode for four days before reaching Dodge City. Barreling into town, Boone gave a signal at the sheriff’s office and the men stopped, hitching their animals to the post outside. They stretched, muscles aching.
The office was a frame building, like the others in a long row. The windows and doors were open to allow for circulation of air. Boone’s boots echoed across the boardwalk and onto the wood floor of the office. “Hello?” he called.
A medium-sized man came from the back of the building. “Hello, yourself. How can I help you?”
Boone answered, “I’m Gary Boone.” He gestured to the men with him. “This is Micah Powers and Jake Myers. We’re looking for three men we think may be holed up near here.”
The deputy held out his hand. “Bat Masterson. Good to know you.” He nodded at Micah. “I think I know you.”
“Yes, sir. I came through here last year. I found your town right hospitable.”
“Glad to hear it. Not all the comments we hear about this place are good. My partner and I are trying to fix that.”
At that time, another fellow came through the front door. He glanced past the men, speaking to Bat. “Everything’s fine at the Lone Star. It was just a drunk causing a dustup. It didn’t take much to put him back in his place.” He turned to Boone and his companions, and then stuck out his hand. “Wyatt Earp.”
Both of the deputies wore white shirts and dark pants. They had coal black hair and inset eyes. Both sported mustaches.
Boone and the men introduced themselves again, and then Boone came to the point. “We’re looking for a couple of fellows by the name of Byler. You know ’em?”
Bat looked at Wyatt. “Yeah, we know ’em,” he said. “Nothing but troublemakers, the lot. Not a single one out of the four is fit to shoot at when you want to unload and clean your gun.”
“Well, there’s just two now,” Jake said. “Boone here had a shootout with them a while back, over a small thing like a stage purse. Two of the Bylers didn’t make it. One of the others got shot up.”
Wyatt laughed. “Can’t think of a better bunch it could happen to.”
Bat said, “Them and their maw got a little farm out past town about five miles. I imagine that’s where they are. The oldest one, Lee, and one of the middle brothers, Rich, I think, were in town just a few nights ago. I guess they were celebrating their good fortune.”
“Y’all feel like accompanying us out there?”
“I don’t mind,” said Bat, “but we need to leave someone here to mind the office. We got prisoners that have to be minded.” He looked over to Wyatt, who nodded.
“I’ll stay back this time. Wear ’em out.”
Boone replied, “I hope they’ll come in without a fight.”
“Not those boys,” Wyatt said. “And look out for the mother — she’s as mean as the boys, if not more so.”
The men exchanged glances. “Might explain a lot,” Boone said.
Chapter Thirty-Six
The ride to the Byler farm took about an hour. The men stopped before they reached the house to reconnoiter and devise a plan. When they were approaching the homestead, they took in a peaceful scene. Since it was almost noon, there was a lazy curl of smoke arising from the small frame shack, evidence of a cook stove in use. Lee Byler was out behind the house chopping wood. The riders pulled up for a moment, allowing him to finish and load his arms. Micah, Jake, and Bat detoured to take positions surrounding the house. Then Boone rode into the yard alone.
“Lee Byler!” Boone shouted, as he stopped his horse in the dusty backyard. “You had to know we’d find you. I’m here to take you and your brother to jail for murder and armed robbery!”
Byler, with his arms full of wood said nothing, but his eyes met Boone’s as if sizing him up for a fight.
“Call your brother,” Boone ordered.
From the corner of his eye, Boone saw a movement at one of the windows. The barrel of a shotgun poked out. With a curse, he slapped his horse on the rump and took off just as the gun discharged, the shells missing him by scant inches. Lee Byler threw down the firewood and ran for the safety of the house.
Boone rode for cover. He stopped at an outcropping of rocks just to the side of the house, then caught Bat’s eye and shook his head in disgust. They had figured it would go this way.
“Lee Byler! You and your brother are coming with me today, whether it’s alive or dead. It’s your choice!”
A voice shouted out the window. “Well, that’s right neighborly of you folks! But I’m sorry. I believe we’ll decline your fine offer.”
A female voice hollered, “You’re lucky I didn’t kill you just now. I reckon you’re the man that murdered my sons and shot up my boy!”
“There’s no reason for anybody to get hurt. Come on out and let’s settle this peaceably!” Boone hollered back.
“Byler! This is Bat Masterson, deputy sheriff of Dodge City. You boys have got more trouble than you can handle. You ought to come on out and save yourself some grief. Your momma don’t want to bury no more boys!”
“Don’t be talking for me, Sheriff!” the lady of the house shouted. “My boys ain’t going anywhere. You just come on in here and try to take ’em!”
Boone inched his way across the rocks, sliding to Bat’s position. “Do we go for the plan?”
Bat said, “Hang on a minute. We need to — ”
At that moment, a hail of bullets passed over their heads, causing them to drop down. Bat reached up and removed his hat, fingering an inch-sized hole near the crown.
“Now, if they keep this up, they’re gonna make me mad,” said Bat, with a frown. He looked Boone square in the eye. “We go with the plan.”
Boone raised one arm to signal the other two men. At the sign, Jake took off his bandanna and climbed back on his horse. He guided the animal to the blind side of the house, where he stopped and stood up in the saddle. Wadding the piece of cloth, he placed it in the ventilation hole for the stove. Then he rode quickly back to his position and ducked down.
After that, it was simply a waiting game. As smoke filled the house, the men could hear the occupants coughing and wheezing. Soon, the door opened and the two boys came charging out, guns blazing. Their mother followed, collapsing just outside the door.
Lee Byler carried two revolvers and was shooting indiscriminately. Rich followed, with his right hand bandaged and a gun in his left. He was having a hard time handling the weapon, but managed to fire off several shots. The Byler brothers ran for the barn, but Bat, Boone, Jake, and Micah opened fire. Rich fell to the dirt and was still. Lee whirled and dropped low, firing at the rocky shelf where Bat and Boone were positioned. A bullet coming from the other angle tore through his arm. He grunted and fell back, dropping both pistols as he grabbed his wound.
Micah and Boone stepped cautiously away from the rocks and toward the last living Byler brother. Boone kicked the guns away and bent to help the man to his feet. As he did, bullets started to fly again. He heard a muffled grunt and spun to see that Micah was down. Boone plopped into the dust and spied Mrs. Byler holding a revolver in both hands. When the gun finally went click, click, click, Mrs. Byler crumpled to the packed clay with wrenching sobs.
Bat walked over and jerked her up by the arm. “I ain’t never arrested a woman before, but I’ll warrant today looks like a fine day to start!”
“Your boys got exactly what they deserved,” Bat said with a growl. “And so will you.” He jerked her over to his horse where he grabbed some rope.
Boone squatted to check on Micah. He looked to the other two men and cursed, shaking his head. “He’s gone.”
Jake bent to see about Lee Byler’s wound. It was a through and through. “You’ll live, more’s the pity.”
“You’re all worthless pigs! You’ll never get me to jail,” Lee shouted as he was hauled to his feet.
Boone walked over and put the still warm nozzle of his pistol against Lee’s temple. “We can make sure right now you never get to jail, if that’s what you want.”
Byler swallowed hard, his eyes darting between the gun and Boone. “Ss … s’all right. I’ll go.”
“I thought you might see it my way.” Boone released the hammer and lowered his weapon. “Just remember you’re outnumbered. Any crazy stunts and you won’t make it to tomorrow. As far as I’m concerned, you wouldn’t be missed.”
Jake went to the barn and came out with three horses. He had them saddled and prepared for riding. Bat picked Mrs. Byler up and threw her onto the back of one of the plug horses. He had tied her hands together while she cussed him to heaven and back again.
Bat glanced over to Boone and indicated the woman with his head. “She’s so mean, I think she’d fight a rattler and give him first bite.”
“She’s an evil one, that’s for sure.”
Boone stripped off his bandanna and tied it around Lee Byler’s injury.
“Oh … I’m hurting bad,” Byler moaned.
Boone balled his fist and punched Lee in the arm at the direct site of the bullet wound. He started to say something, but Byler passed out. Boone shrugged instead.
It took a while for the men to get everything handled. After removing the piece of cloth from the vent, Boone waited for the smoke to clear and then ventured into the house. He threw water on the fire in the cook stove and then searched the home until he found a canvas knapsack with the cash and documents he was after. Rifling through them, he saw pretty quick that part of the money was missing. He cursed again.
When he exited the house, Boone found that Jake had thrown Micah and Rich’s lifeless bodies over their horses, and that both the remaining Bylers were bound and sitting on horses as well. Mrs. Byler continued to rant, her voice grating on the nerves as the men headed out of the yard.
• • •
When they arrived in Dodge City, Bat, Boone, and Jake swung down from their horses in front of the sheriff’s office. They’d had all they could stand of Mrs. Byler and had a greater understanding of how the boys turned out as they did. Bat grimaced and said, “Maybe you boys ought to go ahead and take this she-devil on with you to Tipton.”
“Sorry,” said Boone with a half smile. “This is where her crime was committed. You know the rules.”
Boone and Jake helped load Lee Byler and his mother into jail cells and then they took the two other horses down to the undertakers. They delivered the dead bodies and paid for them to be buried.
Then both boys went in search of a bath, a drink, and a bed.
• • •
Two exhausted men and one prisoner headed out of town the next day, after thanking Bat for his help.
“It was nothing,” Bat said. “Part of the job. Y’all come back when you can enjoy yourselves. We got a nice little place here … most of the time.”
On the trail again, the boys found they missed Micah’s singing. They tried a halfhearted rendition of “Clementine,” but let it go after a couple of verses. Most all they could remember was the chorus, and the singing made them miss Micah even more.
They traveled in silence after that.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Sunday morning, the Fourth of July, 1880, dawned bright and clear. It was a perfect day for a celebration.
Visitors to Tipton started arriving by seven A.M., pulling their buggies and wagons into open areas, and tying their horses to anything that didn’t move.
Main Street filled with tourists — they peered into shop windows and poured into the local eateries. Children galloped up and down the boardwalks, playing games and making new friends.
Morning services started at eight o’clock in the Congregational Church, and there was standing room only in the modest building.
Mindy sat in the fourth row with Mrs. Boone, Becky, and her husband, Neville, and little Terese. The pint-sized bundle was difficult to control this morning. She stood in the pew and turned this way and that, staring out the windows and the open church doors to the activity taking place just a few yards away. She pulled on her mother’s sleeve, asking, “Mommy, where did all the children come from?” Her eyes glowed with excitement and wonder.
Her mother shushed Terri repeatedly, suggesting she would take the child out if she didn’t behave, though Becky didn’t seem to have the heart to carry out the threat. It was too glorious a day. The entire church was filled with a palpable sense of expectancy.
Members greeted each other with broad smiles and happy hugs. They sought out visitors, pumping hands and slapping backs, and when those gathered raised their voices in song, the rafters echoed with the sound.
• • •
Mindy and company exited the church building, saying their goodbyes and good wishes to the preacher and his wife. When they stepped out onto the boardwalk, their hearts filled with exuberance and pride. Red, white, and blue bunting hung from the storefronts all the way down Main Street. Flags were on display in every possible position, with their thirty-eight stars blazing against a canvas of blue.
Becky spoke the words Mindy was thinking. “It looks good, doesn’t it?”
“I’ve never seen anything like it!” Mindy turned to Becky and grasped both her hands. She was even more excited than Terese! “And to think that we had a part! I’m so excited. What do we do first?”
“Well, unfortunately, among all the fun, we have work to do. I told Celia that we would volunteer part of the day as helpers. Otherwise, I don’t think she would get a chance to enjoy herself at all. I hope you don’t mind.”
“Not at all! I’m thrilled to take part. We’ve never had anything this size in our little hometown back in Mississippi. Let’s get started!”
Becky turned to Neville and said, “Last chance. Are you sure you don’t mind watching Terese this morning?”
“I want you two to go have fun. Work hard, but have fun.” He gave his wife a kiss on the cheek. “Terese will be fine. Between Nonny and me, she’ll be spoiled rotten by noon.” They all laughed and then Neville said, “We’ll see you at lunch.”
“Well then,” Becky said, with a wide grin, “we’re off to work on parade organizing. Pray for us!”
Mrs. Boone picked Terri up in her arms, and they both waved gaily as the two women headed up the street to where parade participants were staging. In the middle of a huge crowd of people, they saw the harried Celia Logan.
“Here we are. Ready to help!” Mindy announced as they walked up.
Celia turned and visibly relaxed. “Thank heavens! Would one of you please go speak to those confounded cowboys and ask them to move their animals away from this area? We’re already having complaints and the parade hasn’t even started yet! Tell them to congregate over near the cemetery.”
“Will do,” said Becky, as she marched away.
“What about me?” Mindy asked.
“Could you keep an eye out for Ivy Faith? She has the list with the order of procession. And then go speak to the men with the steam coaches and motor buggies, and ask them to move a little farther down the street. We need to keep them separated from everything else — they’re spooking the horses … and some of the people, for that matter.”
“Yes, ma’am!” Mindy headed off toward the strange vehicles, excited to finally see one of the new fuel-driven, internal combustion wagons up close.
The morning pas
sed in a blur. By the time the event started, the girls barely had time to run and seek a suitable spot from which they could watch the parade. The boardwalks were filled. There were even people perched on top of the buildings! Mindy took it all in with openmouthed wonder.
Several gaily decorated wagons came first, some promoting local businesses. Mindy and Becky laughed and pointed at a man riding in one of the wagons who was dressed as George Washington.
Next, the motorcars, with black smoke belching out from behind. The people watched in fascination as these new contraptions moved along at speeds of four to five miles an hour!
Then followed three wagons, which were decorated with the new bunting that the girls had made. In the first was the mayor of the Tipton, Reuben Lowe; in the second was the esteemed Senator Joseph Watson; in the third was the governor of Kansas, John Pierce St. John. The men looked fine and distinguished in their black cutaway suits and white shirts. The crowd cheered wildly as the gentlemen waved.
The air rang with the vibrant music of the Tipton General Marching Band, a twenty-piece ensemble that had the heart of a company five times its size. Flutes, trumpets, drums, and cymbals played and crashed along to the tune of John Philips Sousa’s new song, “The Gladiator March.” Every heart swelled with pride and joy.
The parade also included former soldiers, walking sedately. It was a day made for goodwill, and men who had fought against one other in the recent war now walked alongside each other in respectful dignity.
The fire brigade came next, and following them were the children on horseback, and then the cowboys. The more daring among them stood on their beasts, or performed tricks like rolling underneath the belly of the horse mid-stride.
It was a wonderful parade. When the last of it passed, Melinda looked to Becky and was happy to see tears that matched her own.
Merle Lacy had joined the girls, and the three spent many happy minutes recounting their favorite moments of the parade, before Becky shouted out, “Oh my! The desserts! We have to fetch them to the food site!” She grabbed Mindy by the hand and dragged her down the road and to her house. Inside, they quickly grabbed baskets stacked full of pies and cakes and hurried off again.