Chapter 30
The Sheriff October 1876
“Hey, Sheriff, ain’t them two Virgil and Morgan Earp?” Clive Andrews yelled over his shoulder. He was standing on the steps in front of the Sheriff’s office.
Sheriff Bill Hayden was a small wiry man, pushing fifty years old. He wore a full beard because he thought it made him look a little more menacing than he did without it. He had been sheriff of Laramie County for over ten years now and was getting the itch to quit and settle down on his small ranch situated East of Bosler. During this time, he had very little trouble in town; the usual drunks and wise guys, but nothing serious to where he had to draw his gun. Not that he was averse to doing so, just that the opportunity never showed itself. He took pride in the fact he could reason with most people before it came down to that. He hired Clive as his deputy close to six months ago and the boy was still excited at the prospect of being a lawman. He was a big raw boned young man with long black hair, wide set brown eyes and a full mustache and rounded cheeks. He had come to Bosler about seven months ago and appeared to be bright enough to handle the job as deputy. He didn’t hire him right away, but Clive kept returning daily to ask about the job. Finally, Sheriff Hayden gave in and hired him to clean the jail and deliver meals to drunks who were sleeping off their hangovers before being released and sent back to punching cattle. Clive had been after Hayden to let him start patrolling the town at night to make sure the cowboys who came to drink and carry on with the ladies at the Saloon behaved themselves. Hayden didn’t think Andrews was ready yet. Clive wanted to confront drunks instead of trying to calm them down first before arresting them. That was one sure way to get somebody shot and Andrews could very well be the one to catch some lead.
Sheriff Hayden joined Clive on the steps and watched the two lone riders slowly ride down the middle of the street of Bosler. They were wearing wide brimmed black hats and long white dusters that flowed down the side of their horses and covered their boots. Their tin stars, pinned to their chest, reflected in the afternoon sun.
“Howdy Sheriff, name’s Virgil Earp and this here is my brother Morgan, we are Deputy Marshall’s out of Dodge City,” the older of the two said as he dismounted in front of the sheriff’s office.
“I know who you are,” Hayden replied, “What can I do for you?”
“Mind if we go inside and talk?” Virgil asked.
“Not at all, I got some coffee left over from this morning, if you’re interested? It’ll wash down some of that dust.”
“Sounds pretty good to me,” Virgil replied.
Morgan spoke up and asked, “You got any whiskey to put in that coffee?”
“Think I might be able to find some.” Hayden replied.
Both Virgil and Morgan slapped their hats against their thighs to get the days dust off. They removed their dusters and laid them over their saddles before walking in the sheriff’s office. Both Earp brothers were rather small men and were dwarfed by Clive Andrews as they stepped past him on their way into the office. Both men had two Colt .44 caliber Army Officer Pistols cross holstered high under each arm. The handles were made of what looked like white pearl.
“Those are mighty fine looking pistols you boys got there.” Clive said.
They ignored him and walked back to Hayden’s desk.
Hayden had pulled up two chairs in front of his desk and had already poured the coffee before the Earp’s sat down.
Reaching in the desk drawer for his bottle of whiskey and pouring a stiff shot in each cup, Hayden said, “Now what’s on your mind, fellas?”
Both of the Earp’s picked up their coffee cup and took a drink while their black eyes looked intently at Sheriff Hayden.
These two ain’t nothin’ better than hired guns, Hayden thought to himself as he stared back at them. They are mighty spooky lookin’.
It was Virgil who spoke first, “How long you been sheriff here?”
“A little over ten years, why?”
There was complete silence in the room and the two Earp brothers just stared at Hayden.
Clive Andrews was leaning against the wall behind Hayden’s desk and shifted his weight from one foot to the next. The jingle of his spurs caused Morgan Earp to lift his eyes and stare at him.
Virgil put down his cup and reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper.
“You know this man.” he said as he reached across the desk to hand it to Hayden.
Hayden kept his eyes on Virgil as he slowly unfolded the paper.
The sheriff looked down at the paper he held in his hand and surprise registered on his face. It was a Wanted Poster with the picture Isom Prentice Olive on it. He was wanted for the murder of six Brule Indians.
“Yeah, I know him. Who issued this?” He asked.
“Justice of the peace Ester Hobart Morris,” Earp replied.
“A woman judge?” Hayden asked incredulously.
“Yep, the first and only woman judge in the territory. Hell, probably the only one in the whole damn country,” Virgil replied. “That goddamn suffrage bill passed in 1869 and got them women voting.”
“Anyways, you know where he can be found?”
“Yep.”
“Well, why don’t you and this young feller standing back here, go out and bring him in? The judge will be in Bosler in four weeks along with the U.S. Attorney for the Wyoming Territory. They aim to try him for them murders before the Sioux get more upset then they already are. Things are fixin’ to boil over pretty quick if we don’t take some action and soon. One of them Brule was a chief. The Agent of Indian Affairs been talking to President Grant about clearing up this problem and it seems like Washington decided this is the fella they want.”
“I can do that.” Hayden replied.
“You need any help?” It was Morgan Earp who asked.
“Don’t reckon I do,” Hayden responded.
Both Earp’s lifted their cups and drained the remaining liquid and put them back down on the desk and rose to their feet at the same time.
“Good,” Virgil said. “See you in four weeks.”
They nodded at Clive and turned and walked out of the office.
They didn’t thank Sheriff Hayden for the coffee.
When they rode off, Clive looked at Hayden and said, “Them two give me the creeps.”
“Yeah me too. Meanness doesn’t just happen overnight. Them two have been workin’ at it for awhile, I guess.”
“I reckon I better head out to the Circle L and give ol’ Olive the bad news. He ain’t goin’ to like this much.”
“Want me to ride along?” Clive asked.
“No, I think it’s better you stay in town and keep an eye on things. We still got some boys hanging out at the Spinning Spur Saloon and I don’t want them shootin’ up the streets. Think you can handle that without drawin’ your gun?”
“Yeah, I’ll keep ‘em in line, don’t worry.”
“I won’t,” Hayden said as he got up and grabbed his hat off the rack standing behind his desk.
“If I leave now I should be back before night fall. Clean out that last cell in the back and keep it empty for Isom.”
“You got it boss.” Clive said as Hayden walked out into the afternoon sun.
This wasn’t going to be pleasant, he thought. Isom felt like Hayden owed him for his job. He had to admit, he got folks to back him whenever he needed help, but that didn’t mean Isom could break the law, even if all he did was shoot some Indians.
Hayden wanted to get this over with so the Earp boys would come and go without spending too much time in Bosler. Just something about them two that made Hayden’s skin crawl. He thought it interesting that Clive felt that way as well. Maybe he would make a decent deputy after all.