by Dani Larsen
Little lead the miners in the strike, and they were attacked by a group known as the "home guard". This group had been organized by the Anaconda Copper Company. The newspapers hadn't helped the situation as they had given their support to the mine owners. Little had even gotten the miners' wives to join the picket lines at the mines, and he persuaded other trade unions to join in the lines. He had also been against the United States getting involved in World War I and had spoken often about that.
Everything came to a head on August 1st, when Frank Little's body was found hanging from a railroad trestle. The miners were so angry about his death that anyone to do with the mine owners or law enforcement was on their list for revenge. Six masked men broke into Little's boardinghouse, early in the morning of that fateful day, and took the Union leader to the edge of town; where they beat him viciously before hanging him. A note was found pinned to his thigh which read, "First and Last Warning". The note included the numbers 3-7-77, which was a sign that vigilantes used in the 19th century in Virginia City, Nevada. It was thought that it referred to the measurements of a grave. The initials of other union leaders were also on the note making many think that it was meant as a threat to the lives of those leaders, if they didn't stop the strike. By the end of that day, the talk was that Pinkerton agents and the Butte police had been involved with the lynching.
Siringo had come into Bart's Saloon for dinner on his last night in town. He had heard about the lynching, but was oblivious to the rumors that the Pinkertons were involved, and was planning on leaving town the next day.
"Hi, Bart, how are you tonight?"
"I'm okay, Charlie. How are you?"
"Doing fine, Bart, except I never found out anything about that guy I'm looking for. You look kind of down and out, what is the matter?"
"Everybody is pretty upset about that lynching this morning."
"I heard that they found someone hung on a trestle outside of town. Was he a regular customer?"
"You might say that. He was someone that was admired by a lot of people that come in here."
"Well, that sure is a shame. Sorry, Bart. I'll have a bowl of that chili if you don't mind. I need to get some food in my stomach before I leave town tomorrow."
"Where are you going, Charlie?"
"I'm going to head north, and look for that guy up by the Canadian border, before summer is over and the weather turns cold."
"I'll get that chili."
When he brought Charlie the chili and set it in front of him, he decided to ask him if he knew anything about Frank Little's murder.
"Do you know any of those guys that were in on that lynching? People are saying that the town lawmen were in on that."
"That's news to me, Bart. I hope not, because that would be a terrible thing. No, even though I still carry my Pinkerton badge, I'm really pretty much retired from them, so nobody tells me anything. I've been trying to find this Burden fellow all on my own. I got some information about him from some old friends who are still in law enforcement, but I really don't have anything to do with any of that anymore. Sure is packed in here tonight. A good day for you, I guess. Anyway, you are too busy to talk so I'll see you later, Bart. I'm on my way out of town, heading for the Canadian border. I'll stop back by for some more chili when I come back through town on my way home."
"Okay, Charlie, see you soon." Bart waved at him as he sat a beer down in front of a guy at the end of the bar. When he went back to clean up Charlie's bowl and beer mug, he found the man had left him a whole dollar on the bar.
Siringo hadn't noticed how quiet it got when he came into the saloon. Everything had been kind of somber all over town that day, because of that lynching, so he hadn't paid much attention. He had stopped at the sheriff's office earlier in the day, to tell them he was leaving town, and asked them to hold any information they got about Jude Burden for him until he stopped back by on his way home. He didn't notice that "the weasel" was following him, and saw him go into the law enforcement office. The man had come straight back to tell his friends where Siringo had gone.
The miners sat in the corner quietly talking about their next move. When they heard Charlie say he was leaving town the next day several eyebrows raised, and the men started talking about what they would do to stop the Pinkerton from hurting anyone else, and how they would get their revenge for Frank Little.
After Charlie left the saloon and went back to his room. Bart overheard the miners talking about Siringo as he served them more beer.
"I'm sure that Siringo guy was in on it." The big man with the beard was speaking to the group.
"Why else would he be at the sheriff's office today, if not to collect his pay." The weasel said angrily.
"I say we teach that son of a bitch a lesson." The tall thin man said.
Bart decided to get into the conversation. "I don't know about that, I think he has just been looking for that Burden fella. I don't think he had anything to do with it."
"I think you're wrong, Bart. I think he is guilty as hell."
"He is leaving in the morning." Bart added.
"Yeah, I heard him. He did his job and he's leaving town."
Bart went back to the bar to wait on some more customers and didn't hear what else was said by the miners who continued to drink and get angrier. By the time they left the saloon they had turned into an angry mob.
It was after two in the morning when Bart left the bar. He was worried about what the miners were plotting. Having gotten to know Charlie Siringo pretty well in the last few weeks, he didn't think the man had anything to do with the lynching of Frank Little, and decided he'd better warn the man. When he left the bar, he walked over to the hotel where Charlie was staying. The man behind the desk was dozing off when he entered the hotel.
"Can you tell me what room Charlie Siringo is in, mister?"
"Sorry, Bart, I'm not allowed to give out that information. Besides it's too late to let anyone go to the rooms unless you are staying here. You can leave him a message if you want."
"Yes, I would like to do that. Have you got some paper and a pencil?"
"Sure thing, there is some right here." The man pulled out a pad of paper and an old dull pencil.
"Thanks." Bart took the paper and thought for a minute before writing.
Charlie, watch your back! There are some guys who think you were involved in that lynching. Bart.
He folded the paper in fourths and gave it to the clerk.
"Please make sure he gets this before he leaves in the morning. It's important!"
"You can count on me, Bart."
The man took the paper and put it in the key slot to Charlie's room and went back to his chair.
Charlie got up at four-thirty in the morning and went down the stairs to check out at five o'clock. He wanted to get an early start, as he wanted to get a lot of miles in today. He was lonesome for Louise, and he knew he needed to be on his way home by the end of the month, so he wouldn't get stuck in Montana during the winter. When he got down to the desk, the clerk was leaning back in his chair, snoring loudly. As Charlie had paid his bill the night before, he simply put his room key on the counter and walked out the door with his saddle bags in his hands.
Jody whimpered softly when he entered the stable, as they had been together so long that she knew Charlie's scent. Putting his head next to hers, he softly caressed her neck before he put on her saddle.
"How's my girl today, Jody?"
The horse lifted her head and neighed happily, as he gave her an apple he had brought from the café. Then he fed her some hay while he cinched on her saddle and got her ready to ride. She was content and excited to be traveling with her master again. As he led her out of the stable, he put his left foot in the stirrup and swung his other leg over her saddle. The sun was just starting to peek over the mountain tops as he rode toward the edge of town.
The clerk in the hotel woke up when the patron in room ten pounded on the counter.
"Hey, wake up, if you want me to
pay my bill."
"Oh sorry, mister, guess I dozed off for a bit." He took the man's money, put it in the cash drawer, and put the key for room number ten in the cubbyhole behind him. When he did, he saw the note in the slot for room number four that he was supposed to give to Charlie Siringo before he checked out, and he thought the man must be late in leaving. When he turned around, he saw the key laying on the end of the counter. He put the key in its slot, took the note, and walked outside and over to the stable, to see if he could catch the man before he left. The groom was standing outside smoking a cigarette.
"Hey, is Charlie Siringo in the stable?"
"No, Charlie rode out of town about fifteen minutes ago."
"Oh, darn."
The clerk turned around and went back inside the hotel, wondering what to tell Bart if he asked about the note. Then he decided to just not say anything, and he tore the paper into little pieces and tossed it in the trash can.
Charlie got about three miles out of town when he had a funny feeling that he was being watched. He was heading through a canyon, when he heard a gunshot and felt a sting in his left shoulder. Grabbing his pistol with his right hand, he turned around as another shot pierced the air and hit him in the left leg. As he started to fall from his saddle he leaned to the right, trying to land on his good leg, but fell on his right side in the dirt at Jody's feet. Jody was scared and reared up on her hind legs, neighing loudly, when four guys with masks came running out from behind the rocks. One grabbed Jody's reins, and the other three attacked Charlie.
Charlie had his pistol aimed when one came up behind him and grabbed the gun out of his hand. The other two pulled him to his feet. He struggled to stand as the pain in his left leg was so bad he wanted to scream, and his left arm hung painfully at his side.
"What do you want? I don't have any money."
"We don't want your money, you Pinkerton traitor."
"What do you mean? What are you talking about?"
"We know you were in on the lynching of Frank Little, you son of a bitch! Don't even try to hide it!"
"What? No, you're wrong. I didn't have anything to do with that. I'm just here looking for a murderer."
"Yeah, sure you are."
The man was huge and towered over Charlie. He returned his gun in his holster, and his fist suddenly smashed into the Pinkerton man's face. Charlie felt like his skull was coming apart. He knew his nose was broken, but that was the least of the pain. Blood was pouring from his nose as the man hit him again, this time he felt the bone above his right eye break, and he wondered dimly if he had just lost his sight in that eye. As he fell to the ground, the other two men began hitting him with their pistols and kicking him in his side and legs. Each kick brought terrific pain to another part of his body. He thought he was going to die, and the pain was so bad he was hoping it would be over soon. All he could think about was his horse. With his last breath he said, "Don't hurt my horse." After another painful kick in his gut everything went dark.
When he woke up it was pitch black, and he couldn't move. He could feel blood caked on his face, and he couldn't open his eyes. He felt hot breath on his face and knew that Jody was standing over him, and he breathed a sigh of relief that she was okay. Were they still here? When he got his left eye open a bit he could only see that it was dark and nothing else, and the only thing he heard was Jody's breathing as she stood protectively by him. There was a cold wind blowing and he was suddenly freezing, as he wondered if he was still by the road or if anyone would be able to see him. Finally, he was able to move a little and realized he was behind a rock. Now he was afraid that he would die there before anyone would see him. His only hope was that someone would see Jody, and try to catch her and find him. While he laid there, he chastised himself for the many mistakes he had made while he was searching for Jude Burden. He was aware that there was a mine problem in town, and that the miners didn't like the Pinkerton men or any law enforcement. His one big mistake was letting people know that he had been a Pinkerton man. It was obvious now that he should have paid more attention, after he heard about the lynching of Frank Little. What a fool he had been. His training had been better than that. He knew better than to have headed into that canyon when he had a sense someone was watching him. He was shivering violently from the cold and the pain as he drifted back into unconsciousness.
Bart was serving beers to the gang of miners at the back table when his ears perked up at the mention of the "Pinkerton Man".
"Yeah, we really taught him a lesson today, didn't we?"
"He deserved it."
The big man in the corner spoke as he took his beer from Bart's hand. Bart noticed that his hand was covered with bruises, and dried blood, and so were the hands of the two other men at the table. Bart felt sick, as he suddenly realized that Charlie Siringo was in real trouble if he wasn't dead.
As he listened from the far end of the bar, he heard the men talking about the big canyon three miles outside of town. Bart hung up his apron, and then asked his cook to please come out and take over the bar, telling him he had something important to take care of.
When Bart left the saloon he went to the doctor's house at the end of town and asked him to please take a ride with him, and to bring his bag, as he was sure there was someone who needed his help. Bart rode his horse, and the doctor followed in his buggy. The full moon was just coming up when they got to the canyon. Jody whinnied as they rode up, and Bart saw her standing to the right in the rocks below the canyon.
Bart got off of his horse, ran over to Jody, and found Charlie not moving beneath her.
"He's here, come quick, he looks hurt bad."
The doctor got out of his buggy, grabbed his bag, and quickly joined Bart. After a quick examination he spoke to Bart.
"We need to get this man back to town right away. He is hurt bad, but I can't see how bad he is in the dark. Let's hope he can take the ride to town in my buggy."
It took the two men half an hour to get Charlie over to the buggy and lay him in the back seat. Then Bart took Jody's reins, and he followed the buggy back to town to the doctor's office.
Bart sat in the doctor's parlor while the doctor and his wife tended to Charlie in his back room. It seemed like hours before the doctor came out to tell him about Charlie. Bart had finally fallen asleep, and he realized the sun was coming up as he sat up to hear what the doctor had to say.
"He is going to make it, but he is hurt pretty bad. We took out bullets in his leg and arm, but his other arm, collar bone, hip, and probably some ribs are broken. His nose and jaw are also broken, and I won't know about his eye until the swelling goes down. It will be a long recovery for a man his age. It will probably be weeks or months before he is able to ride a horse again. I can keep him here for a week or so, but no longer than that."
"I will put him up at my place after that. I kind of feel responsible for what happened to him."
The doctor raised his eyebrows. "Really? Do you know who did this?"
"Not for sure, but I think I know. I don't dare tell on them though. These guys are pretty upset about what happened to Frank Little, and I think they thought that Charlie had something to do with it. I should never have told them that he told me he was a Pinkerton man. I didn't realize that he was retired until the other night. He had nothing to do with that lynching. Poor guy!"
"Okay, I'll keep him here for a week, and then we will move him to your place. But you better calm those guys down so they don't try to hurt him again, or I will have to report this."
"I will have a talk with them. I'm sure I can convince them that he had nothing to do with that crime. When will he be able to talk to me?"
"Not for a while with that broken jaw. It will have to heal a lot. Does he have family that should be told about his condition?"
"I've heard him talk about a wife in New Mexico, but I don't know more than that. Guess we'll have to wait until he can talk, so I can get that information from him and let her know."
"Okay, Ba
rt. Let's hope he makes it. You might want to go through his things to see if there is some information in his bags. Did you take care of his horse?"
"Yes, I put her back in the stable. Poor thing, she seemed pretty upset too."
"She's probably been with him for a long time. Why don't you come back tomorrow, Bart? We'll see if he is able to communicate at all by then."
Bart went back to his room above the saloon feeling like he had been the cause of the Pinkerton man's ordeal. He vowed to do his best to make it up to the man for his part in what happened.
Charlie stayed in the Doctor's extra room for two weeks. It took that long for the doctor to be sure he was going to make it. He was in and out of consciousness for almost a week. The doctor said he had a concussion and shouldn't be moved until he regained full consciousness. When he finally woke up he found out that his arm and leg had been reset, and his hip and collarbone had been wrapped to help them try to heal properly. His nose and jaw had also been reset and were bandaged. The swelling around his eye had gone down a lot, but his eyesight was fuzzy in that eye. He moaned loudly with pain everywhere when he finally woke up.
Bart was sitting by his side looking at an old magazine.
"Charlie, how are you feeling?"
"Like I was trampled by a herd of cattle. Where am I? What happened to me, Bart?"
"You were attacked on your way out of town, Charlie, and they hurt you bad. You have been here at the doctor's house for over two weeks. I wanted to take you back to my place, but he said you couldn't be moved. I know he needs this room, so I am hoping to get you over to my place sometime in the next two days. I'm thinking we should do it in the early morning though, as I don't want anybody knowing you are there. I'm afraid there are some people who think you had something to do with Frank Little's lynching and are still out to get you."