ArizonaRealCountry.com 43 November 2018 So why did the authorities of embryonic Western towns hire gunfighters with a dubious past to enforce law and order in their communities? The answer was as simple as this direct quote from TIME- LIFE'S abridged version of their acclaimed America's Wild West book: "Because a quick draw was useful on both sides of the law, many erstwhile gunfighters found work as peace officers. Towns tended to overlook a potential lawman's checkered past, often counting on it, in fact since a fearsome reputation could be a marshal's best weapon.” A man would think twice before making a ruckus in a town policed by Wild Bill Hickok or Bat Masterson. This narrative will investigate a select bunch of the many, and yes, I did write many, former gunfighters who would parlay a notorious reputation breaking, or at the very least, skirting the law to wear the badge and take up temporary respectable careers of men of honor, courage and dignity if not decency - only to find that the life of an outlaw man was much more lucrative, if also a much shorter lifespan. We shall encounter a few of these men whose checkered pasts were overlooked - for a time by their communities - until they went rogue again. And yes, a few others like in the model of Owen Wister's "The Virginian"- the notorious Frank Canton, for whom some say he continued his criminal life while wearing a badge, but ended up being respected and honored, even by those authorities who once hunted him. Perhaps the first case of a notorious, murderous character who ostensibly turned lawman only to murder the citizens he served was the notorious Henry Plummer. Plummer, a known gambler and gunman had been hired as the sheriff of Bannack, Montana in the spring of 1863 despite a stint in San Quentin for a number of murders committed by Plummer when he was the sheriff of Nevada City, California only seven years earlier. On the surface Plummer seemed like the fearless, trustworthy sheriff bringing law and order to a ruckus Montana mining town. However, by the winter of 1863, there was an increasing number of holdups on the road leading into nearby Virginia City, Montana (not to be confused with Virginia City, Nevada where a similar mining boom had occurred at roughly the same time). Not only were the robbers stealing gold by the thousands of dollars, but they had also murdered or grievously wounded a number of victims. The aroused citizenry of Virginia City was suspicious of Plummer, and having no sheriff themselves they formed a vigilante committee which went about tracking down each one of the Plummer gang and summarily hanging them. Plummer's turn came when he was captured on January 10, 1864, with a number of his associates, then taken out and summarily hanged. An ancillary victim of vigilante justice was Captain Jack Slade, the most courteous when sober but irrational and deadly when drunk, famed Pony Express road manager. Slade had recently moved up to Virginia City from Colorado and in fact, was trying to lead a quiet life with his wife in the Montana mining town. He was never a member of the Plummers. But his drinking had gotten the best of him, and when he threatened to kill a judge, it was the final straw for the vigilantes. They had just sent Plummer to the gallows so they decided to take care of their other problem as well. Slade was warned to leave town, chose to go to the local saloon for one last, fatal drink, was apprehended, and marched off to the gallows to join in death the killers of the Plummer gang. (This writer first encountered the story of Henry Plummer as a 9-year-old in the Southern California community of West Covina, when he met in, of all places a pet salon, a gentleman who looked like Buffalo Bill who was visiting family in town. The old timer was not only a resident of Virginia City, but he was also both a walking encyclopedia of town history and a promoter of his town. He left this wide-eyed kid two pamphlets, of which I still have one someplace about Virginia City, Montana history and wrote me a subsequent letter, which to my everlasting regret I never replied to.) Another case in point of lawmen-turned-outlaw was the notorious Dalton family, including the majority of the brothers who tried to take down two Coffeyville banks that morning in October 1892. The Daltons may have been born with the outlaw blood in their veins considering that they were cousins of the notorious Youngers. Almost all of them, Frank, Bob, and even little Emmett all joined up in the U.S. Marshals service in Indian (Oklahoma) territory in the late 1880s and served the famed "Hanging Judge" Isaac Parker as deputy marshals. But only one of them, Frank, stayed true to law and order. Frank's record as a lawman was exemplary, enforcing the law, settling disputes and forcing whiskey runners out of the territory. In fact, he died at the hands of whiskey runners in 1887, still loyal to the badge. It was brother Grat who initially took over his murdered brother's marshal's position, and in turn, hired both Bob and younger brother Emmett as deputies policing the Indian Territories. For a time it seemed that they were going to follow in Frank's honest boots. But two years on, the low pay, the endless work, and the opportunities of making a fast buck turned their heads and caused them to think twice about the Lawman's life. By Alan Rockman continued on page 44 There was a very fine line between being an Old West lawman and turning to the outlaw life that was crossed so many times in the history of the Old West, and so many notable figures very often jumped onto both sides of the line. Even a few like the Earps, Bat Masterson, Doc Holliday, and a Big Bill Tilghman whose own lifelong code of honor, veracity, and dignity were recently questioned in another publication were not exactly immune, depending on one’s point of view. For the most part, they adhered to the life of standing behind the badge and enforcing law and order in those rowdy towns in the land between the Rio Grande and the Rockies. The Fine Line Between an Old West Lawman and the Outlaw Life (and how it was crossed over so many times) PART 1 Even Frank Canton, whom Owen Wister modeled his "The Virginian" character upon, started off his notorious career as a Texas gunman on the run from authorities for rustling and a murder he had committed. Years later, a respected lawman in Oklahoma and in the Klondike, the aged Canton wrote the governor of Texas revealing his true identity as Jack Horner, outlaw and requested a pardon which was granted. Henry Plummer