May 16, 2025 • 25 mins
Step back in time to autumn 1877, where the whispers of history echo beneath the branches of an oak tree at Sawlog Creek. Frank Buskirk and his fellow drovers have just completed their cattle drive from Texas, setting up camp near Dodge City when a stranger named Bob Shaw rides into their midst. What begins as a chilling campfire tale about two men—one guilty, one innocent—hanged from the very oak tree above their heads, becomes a haunting prelude to violence that will soon unfold.
Shaw's story of frontier justice gone wrong serves as a dark foreshadowing when the cowboys venture into Dodge City the following day. Inside the bustling Lone Star Saloon, past grievances collide with present tensions as Shaw confronts Texas Dick in a display of frontier fury that erupts into a shootout. Deputy Marshal Ed Masterson intervenes, but not before bullets fly and blood is spilled, leaving multiple men wounded and forever changed by the encounter.
Through Buskirk's firsthand account, we witness not only the violent reality of Western life but also how these stories were recorded and sometimes distorted in the pages of frontier newspapers. The Dodge City Times reports the incident with errors and omissions, highlighting the gap between lived experience and published history—a reminder that the Wild West we think we know may be built on incomplete truths.
This gripping narrative excavates the complex nature of frontier justice, the bonds formed between men on cattle drives, and the thin line between order and chaos in places where law was still taking root. Beyond the gunsmoke and bloodshed lies a meditation on how stories shape our understanding of history and ourselves.
Ready to dive deeper into authentic tales from America's frontier? Subscribe to our premium content for just $3 monthly and join us in uncovering the real stories that defined the West. Connect with us across all major podcast platforms and social media—each episode brings you one step closer to understanding the true spirit of the American frontier.
"Edward Masterson and the Texas Cowboys," penned by Michael King, takes readers on an exhilarating ride through the American West, focusing on the lively and gritty cattle town of Dodge City, Kansas. This thrilling dime novel plunges into the action-packed year of Ed Masterson's life as a lawman, set against the backdrop of the chaotic cattle trade, filled with fierce conflicts, shifting loyalties, and rampant lawlessness. You can order the book on Amazon.
Mark as Played
Transcript
Episode Transcript
Available transcripts are automatically generated. Complete accuracy is not guaranteed.
Speaker 1 (00:13):
Just as I shall select my horse when I am about
to go see the elephant or becomeoafish in my campsite when I
propose to take a rest, so shallI have the right to choose my
resting place when I am about todepart from life.
With early fall past, the skieshad been low and gray.
These past few days we had beendriving our herd along the
(00:34):
western trail from south Texas,taking us two months until we
arrived at Sawlog Creek.
We were very glad to reach theend of our journey.
There's a military road hereleading in the direction of Fort
Larned.
Just southwest of our temporarycamp is Dodge City.
Saw Log Creek is a sacred placethat transcends everyday
(00:54):
concerns, casting them into atimelessness of a creek and its
surrounding trees.
About our feet are only thebrown remains of fallen leaves.
Our feet are only the brownedremains of fallen leaves.
The nearby creek bed hascreated a shelter of growth over
time into a batched oasis oftrees among the flat plains, a
perfect resting place withplenty of water.
(01:14):
After a long ride on the trail,when the cattle turned loose to
range over the flat plains, itwas my job to make circuit
around the range twice a day.
Rebel Jack, who rode with mewas to turn the cattle back that
were inclined to wander beyondthe bounds.
The country was full of game,so we carried our guns and had a
great deal of sport, mixed withrough living and hard riding.
(01:37):
The autumn days waned towardthe inevitable colder weather
ahead, each nightfall comingsooner than the one before.
We were late in the season andmost of the cattle drives had
come to the end, and with anyluck we could find a buyer for
the herd.
The trail boss, quincy, wantedto graze cattle on the land for
a few days before we took theherd into Dodge.
(01:57):
Jim Quincy, along with TexasJack, had gone ahead into Dodge
to find some buyers.
On the afternoon we saw a riderapproach our camp.
It was Saturday evening,november 3rd 1877, when a
lonesome rider approached ourcamp.
(02:17):
We'd been in the area for abouta week.
Bentley had just come up fromthe creek to help me tend the
horses also spotted a rider.
Hey, bentley, I shouted.
Would you stop barking at aknot and bring me my gun belt?
I see a rider coming and Ican't tell if he's friendly.
I see him too.
He's riding a pacing horse,bentley shouted.
(02:38):
Bentley picked up his pace,retrieved my gun belt from the
chuck wagon and stood next to mewhen the rider entered our camp
.
I watched the rider dismounthis horse.
He seemed eager to have aconversation with our trail boss
.
He approached our chuck wagonholding the reins with one hand,
while his other kept closeproximity to his holstered
(02:58):
revolver.
Howdy boys, can anyone heretell me who's in charge of this
outfit?
He asked.
Each man in camp had come in forevening dinner and watched
cautiously as the man took theliberty to tie his horse to a
string line made between twotrees.
My name's Bob Shaw and I'mlooking for a man by the name of
Dick Moore.
(03:19):
He's known around these partsas Texas Dick.
He said what business do youhave with Texas Dick?
I asked.
Well, he's a good friend ofmine.
Last summer Moore and I drove aherd of cattle from San Antonio
up this way.
Bob Shaw looked down, paused asecond and kicked the ground.
Some of my friends in town saidhe had a herd of cattle out
(03:41):
this direction, so I thought I'dpay him a visit.
Well, he's not here, I said.
But you're welcome to stay fordinner.
We have made up a good pot ofbeans and Joe over there shot a
deer this morning.
Why don't you grab up a plateand settle in for a meal and
campfire chat?
We all moved in the directionof the chuck wagon.
(04:01):
Bob Shaw moved his way to thefront before our bean master
lowered the swinging legattached to the chuck box.
The box held ten plates, cups,spoons, knives and forks.
Bob and the rest of the boyshelped themselves to the eating
utensils, filled their platesand settled in around the
campfire.
Each man was hungry and it tooksome time to strike up a
(04:23):
conversation.
I watched Shaw with interest ashe continued to look up.
He took a few glances at alarge overhanging branch, the
same tree branch of the oak treewhere I rested.
Shaw broke the silence of themen eaten.
You men picked a very peculiarplace to make your fire, said
Bob.
I was a bit troubled by Shaw.
(04:44):
Make your fire, said Bob.
I was a bit troubled by Shaw'sboldness about our camp.
In my mind he was just ablatherskite.
He first took the liberty totie off his horse and now he was
making comments about thelayout of our campsite.
I suspect he might just betrying to slumguzzle us.
(05:04):
I set my half-filled tin plateof a meal on a nearby rock which
held the fire pit in place.
I didn't want my eating tointerfere with what Shaw had to
say.
I sent him a harsh look andwaited for him to speak.
Well, I hope you don't takeoffense by my comment about your
camp layout, said Shaw.
I just want to point out thatan innocent man was lynched on
(05:24):
the very branch overhanging yourhead.
Shaw pointed upward to a thickoak branch.
Yep, he was hanged by mistake.
The men sitting around thecampfire froze with curiosity.
I could tell they wanted toknow more about Shaw's story.
The excitement of knowingShaw's story about the hanging
wired the boys like they were ona fast horse hanging onto its
(05:46):
manes.
I, on the other hand, felt likemy brain was on fast forward
and there was no off switch.
I noticed each breath Shaw took, the moisture from his lungs
rising like thick plumes witheach exhale.
Go on.
I said, tell your story.
Shaw stuffed his mouth with aspoonful of beans and muffled
(06:07):
out the words.
It was back a few years when Ifirst told this story.
The story, well circulated inDodge, happened in early April
1876.
A gang of horse thieves, onegoing by the name of John Cole,
stole eight horses.
This thievery happened about300 miles from here, over at
Wellington, bob paused, reachedover to his tin cup, took a
(06:31):
large gulp and continued.
After the gang of thievesseized some prized horses from
some local settlers in SumnerCounty, they rode hard to Dodge
City to dispose of the booty.
Before reaching Dodge the gangsplit up Cole and another man
took to Oferley, sold theirstock, split the profits and
then separated, each taking adifferent route.
(06:52):
Cole went north and ended uphere at Sawlog Creek.
Bob hesitated, looked around thecampsite and took in another
large spoonful of his meal.
It was here at Saw Log Creek.
A man by the name of Callahanwas encamped.
Callahan, a minister's son, wasengaged in picking up buffalo
bones and hauling them to therailroad where he commanded a
(07:13):
fair price.
Being a frontiersman's camp andnotably open to everyone, cole
took advantage and rested in theshade near this here creek
explained Bob.
What John Cole did not knowwhile he rested under the shade
near this here creek explainedBob.
What John Cole did not knowwhile he rested under the shade
of this here tree is that a bodyof vigilantes had followed a
hot trail into Dodge City.
Callahan, on the other hand, byhis good nature, had accepted
(07:36):
the company of a horse thief inhis camp.
Bob looked over to the eveningblaze of the fire.
Spit shook his head.
While the fire sizzled, thevigilantes recovered some of the
stolen horses and dodged.
They asked for the buyer whosold them the horses.
The buyer said it was a manfrom Overly.
The vigilantes burned theirhorses and rode hard to the
(07:57):
small village of Overly.
They met with the man who hadsold the horses and dodged.
The man in Overly, told thevigilantes, there were two men
who had sold him the horses andone of them rode in the
direction of Sawlog Creek.
It didn't take long for thevigilantes to overtake this
place.
At Sawlog Bob stood up andpointed in the direction where
(08:18):
the riders must have entered thecamp.
The vigilantes dismounted andsurrounded the bone pickers'
camp and found Callahan alone.
Callahan, scared out of hiswits at gunpoint, informed the
vigilantes that Cole had gonedown to the creek to catch some
fish.
Bob snickered under his breathand shook his head with delight.
In no time the vigilantesspotted the young outlaw.
(08:40):
Cole came up the bank with afishing pole to declare his
prize catch a fish.
When the vigilantes overcameCole.
These vigilantes hid behind thetrees laying in an ambush.
As they easily overtook Cole.
The surprise was so great itcaused Cole to drop his mess of
fish.
Cole was taken back to the bonepickers camp.
Along the way he kept repeatinghimself, asking his captors
(09:03):
what did I do?
Someone tell me what did I do?
Bob paused, looked around thecampfire as if to check to see
if he had our interest.
None of his captors said a worduntil they reached the bone
pickers camp.
It must have been pretty clearto Cole how his day was going to
end.
The vigilantes who'd remained atcamp made ready two hanging
(09:24):
nooses, struck over the branchof this here oak tree.
Shaw gave a pause and a deepbreath, pointed up to the tree
branch hanging over my head,sighed and continued on with his
story, with Callahan continuingto claim his innocence and Cole
asking someone to tell him whathe'd done.
The hangman thought both Coleand Callahan were lying.
(09:46):
Callahan, already bound, hishands roped together behind him,
was gagged, hooded and placedon a horse.
Bob jumped up suddenly andthrew his hands behind him as if
he were bound, going to thehangman's noose.
Then he took a minor squat,looking at each of us in the
eyes.
I could see the devil's glow inhis eyes, almost to enjoyment
(10:06):
as he continued his story.
Cole, I was told, did not goeasy.
He kicked and cussed at hiscaptors until one of them hit
him over the head with the backend of a Navy Colt revolver.
It didn't take long for thehangman to dress Cole up for the
occasion, to place him on ahorse next to Callahan Noose,
and all Suddenly, the boss manon his horse made up his mind.
(10:27):
He tipped his hat to the twohangmen who stood next to their
horses.
The two hangmen, anxiouslywaiting for their two borrowed
mounts to be relieved oftemporary riders, eagerly
slapped the rear end of bothhorses.
Bob jumped up from where he wassquatting and began imitating
the noose around his neck,playing out the role of a
dangling man.
(10:48):
Cole must have come due aboutthat time, for he shouted
fiercely, so fiercely that hisscreams could be heard across
the valley until the noosesilenced him.
The last sound heard was themoaning of that old oak branch
above our heads.
Then, dead silence.
The branch creaked once moreunder the sway of each man.
The bodies dangled with theirtoes pointed straight downward,
(11:10):
very slowly revolving.
Each man was dead as a stone.
The boss man rode over, reachedout with a rifle and poked at
each body.
When he touched coal heoscillated slightly, then kicked
once more.
This must have scared the bossman, because he snappishly
ordered his men to ride out thebone pickers camp.
All at once the vigilantesyelped a war cry, riding out on
(11:32):
the plains, leaving the two menswaying in the dust.
All of us sat in silence.
Each man's face could be seenin the glow of the fire.
All silent, all still.
The story of an innocent manbeing hung was hard to take in.
My mind was sent reeling,unable to comprehend or process
(11:53):
the images of how ruthless menbecame when packed together like
starving wolves.
Men became, when packedtogether, like starving wolves.
Bentley, who sat next to me,shook his head in disgust and
looked over to Bob Shaw, whoseemed to be highfalutin by his
story.
I'll be higgly-piggly.
Bentley exclaimed Did theybring those men to justice?
Bentley asked.
Bob stood up.
(12:15):
Nope, it was just a bag ofnails.
Not enough money for the FordCounty Sheriff to travel the
distance, replied Bob.
After a few letters were sentbetween the Governor and Sheriff
Bassett, the Governor refusedto supply the funds needed to
bring cause to justice.
Boys, I'd best be going, saidBob.
He held his empty plate infront of him throwing the
(12:37):
remaining coffee from his tincup into the fire.
He turned and walked in thedirection of the chuck wagon,
untied his horse mounted and,with one kick, rode off into the
dark of night After the lastsound of hooves could be heard
in the distance.
Bentley pulled over beside me.
The rest of the drovers left thecampfire to attend to their
(12:57):
bedding.
You think he's an honest man,bentley asked.
No, I do not.
I replied.
I think we need to fork a houseinto Dodge tomorrow morning and
find Texas Dick.
I agree, bentley said.
Do you think we need to go now,before this is a catawampus?
I do, I replied.
(13:18):
But we have a responsibilityfor the herd.
So we'll just hope the TexasDick returns with our trail boss
tomorrow.
Besides, he's probably in themiddle of some scamper juice
getting ready to do a littleperrouting.
Yeah, I guess you're right,said Bentley.
He'd be mad as hell if weinterrupted him painting his
nose while he was enjoying theelephant.
(13:39):
The next morning sun rose overthe smoldering remains of our
campfire.
The camp grease belly was hardat frying bacon and bacon
biscuits in the Dutch oven.
The smell of breakfast broughteach man and camp to foot.
Some left for the trees, othersstretched.
I pulled my bed saddle andblanket from the ground, making
(13:59):
ready for the cattle drive intotown.
Some of the boys came in fromnight watch others to eat
breakfast and a few went to thecreek to bathe.
It did not take long for us toclear out our camp and saddle
our horses.
Everyone was intent on endingthe drive, getting paid and
taking in some of thefestivities Dodge City had to
(14:20):
offer.
While we were saddling up, oneof the boys noticed a buggy
coming up the trail.
As the buggy came nearer we sawthat there were two occupants
in the rig beside the driver.
When the buggy drew up we sawour boss.
Our boss was with a buyer andhis companion, but there was no
sign of Texas Dick.
Our boss man Quincy stepped outof the rig, dragged out his
(14:43):
saddle from under the seat andinvited the buyer and his
companion to breakfast.
The buyer declined and saidthat he and his partner needed
to attend to another herd justsouth of where we were camped.
It did not take Bentley long tobust in on a conversation.
Like some old leaky mouth.
He told our boss man Quincyabout the man named Shaw who
rode into our camp.
(15:03):
The boss man motioned me over.
He told me to take a few of theboys into town and check on
Texas Dick.
He gave us each $20 gold piece.
He said we would get the rest.
When we drove the cattle intothe stockyards the boss man told
the four of us not to take long, for the cattle were to be
shipped from the railroad.
Tomorrow afternoon it was aboutmid-morning when Bentley,
(15:28):
honeymoon and I rode into Dodge.
As we rode through the southside of town, honeymoon pointed
out a hitched horse in front ofthe Lone Star Saloon.
Hey, is that their Texas Dickshorse over there, asked
Honeymoon.
The boys and I decided tocircle around town to a vacant
lot within a block of the rearof the dance hall.
Honeymoon was left to hold thehorses.
(15:49):
Then Bentley and I took off ourbelts and hung them on the
pommels of our saddles.
We secreted our six shootersinside the waistbands of our
trousers.
The Lone Star Dance Hall was atthe beginning of its day, with a
few revelers when we enteredthe place.
When we crossed the threshold,we saw Bob Shaw at the bar
taking in some scamper juice.
I could see from a distancethat Shaw had on him a pair of
(16:12):
barking irons.
The Lone Star had just openedand the boisterous cattlemen
started to spin freely, it didnot take long for the dance hall
to become crowded.
A steady stream of droversentered the door as some drovers
took to the bar, while otherspicked out a lady dancer and
went to dancing.
The piano player banged outlively tunes as the dance hall
(16:33):
girls flirted and giggled withthe cowboys.
The girls danced playfully,pulling away frequently from
groping hands.
The start of a drinking day bynoon was nothing if not typical
of most saloons, especially inthe Lone Star Dance Hall.
Bob Shaw started spending hismoney as well as drinking freely
and at the end of a quadrillegave vent to his self-inflicted
(16:56):
hilarity in an old-fashionedComanche yell.
I could see the situation wasbecoming like hair in the butter
when the bartender took Shaw totask.
The bartender must haverecognized Shaw's bad intentions
.
Shaw raised his shot glass andyelled out we have a
four-flusher in this room andI'm about to call him out.
The bartender, a brute of a man, leaned over the bar and called
(17:22):
out to Shaw, who yelled out asecond time.
Hey you, cowboy, keep the nosedown, shouted the bartender.
If you're looking to crawlsomebody's hump this afternoon,
this ain't the place to do it.
Shaw responded to the bartenderby telling the bartender to
shut his big bazoo and shovedoff his black-eyed Susan
pointing it directly at thebartender's head.
The bartender scampered out thedoor.
(17:42):
I could hear him in thedistance yelling for the marshal
.
I looked over on the dance floorand saw Texas Dick trying to
make a mash on a red-headed girl.
So I decided to get a wiggle onthe situation and joined in on
the set.
I moved out on the dance floorand picked out a red-headed,
freckled girl.
I took one big square danceswing with my new freckled
(18:06):
friend and pulled up next toTexas Dick.
I told him he should take carefor a man by the name of Shaw
may be on the shoot.
At the conclusion of the dance,bob Shaw grabbed Texas Dick by
his shoulder from behind, yankedhim away from the red-headed
girl.
The music stopped.
All who stood close to thesituation froze.
(18:26):
I reached inside my shirt andplaced my hand on my barking
iron.
I could see the fires of furyand hatred smoldering in Shaw's
small, narrowed eyes.
I could tell by his posture hewas hatred smoldering in Shaw's
small, narrowed eyes.
I could tell by his posture hewas weighing the pros and cons
of the various and creativemeans available to him to
extract his revenge.
You might be a big man in Texas, you four-flusher of a thieving
(18:46):
bastard.
Shaw shouted.
But the name Texas Dick don'tmean shit to me, or Kansas.
I watched as the whites inShaw's eyes turned a pure black
and as his iris glowered teal.
Texas Dick reached out his leftarm, motioning me to pull back.
I could see the symbols, linesand dots formed in Shaw's iris.
The figure in Shaw's eyes wasTexas Dick.
(19:08):
Shaw's eyes widened.
Final glance into Shaw'sfurious eyes confirmed a
possible outcome Shaw was goingto kill Texas Dick.
When Ed Masterson entered thedoor he saw Shaw pull his
barking iron and a hog's head ofblood in his eye, ready to
(19:28):
relieve Texas Dick of hisexistence.
The jig is up.
Texas Dick yelled Shaw.
I'm going to send your flannelmouth into a world where hard
cases like you can meet thedevil.
Ed Masterson stepped up in thedirection of Ed Shaw and Texas
Dick Give me the gun, shaw.
Ed said You're drunk.
You don't really want to dothis.
(19:48):
He added, walking toward Shawas he spoke this son of a bitch
stole $40 from me.
He's a thieving card cheat andhe's going to pay for it, shaw
said.
Masterson's reply to theresistance was a solid blow to
Shaw's head.
Shaw struck the floor like ablacksmith hammer on the back of
a crooked horseshoe.
Get out of here while you can.
(20:09):
Ed told Texas Dick, I don'twant any trouble in here today.
Texas Dick and I moved out of EdMasterson's way.
We started to back out the doorwhen the downed mud still of a
man named Shaw came to and firedhis revolver in the direction
of Ed Masterson.
The bullet spat out of Shaw'sbarrel.
Shaw's first shot hit Mastersonin the ribs.
(20:30):
The bullet exited out his rightshoulder, propelling him
backward and onto the floor.
The dance hall patrons hit thefloor.
A second gunshot from Shawcracked into the air as loud as
thunder, hitting Texas Dick inthe right groin.
I had made it to the doorway andwas looking in when Shaw
managed to get off a third shothitting me in the left arm.
(20:50):
Black filled the edges of myvision and the only thing I
could hear was my own heartbeat.
I looked over at Ed MastersonShifting his revolver to his
left hand.
Ed fired back.
The first shot hit Shaw in theleft arm and the second shot hit
his right leg.
Ed, bleeding profusely pulledhimself from the floor and
dragged Shaw off to jail.
(21:11):
Drag Shaw off to jail.
After the shooting I was treatedby Dr Galland and was held up
in the Dodge house recoveringfrom my wound.
I'd been under the doctor'sorders to rest for five days.
I got tired of that stuffy roomand decided to venture out onto
the boardwalk to get some freshair.
I pulled up by a gentleman whowas being entertained by the
(21:34):
newspaper he was reading.
Looking over the man's shoulder, I read the headlines of the
Dodge City Times, the headlinefor the story, printed in bold
Frontier Fun.
Included underneath theheadline was the subtitle Frank
Shaw Tries to Remedy HisGrievances with a Revolver and
Get Left a Deputy Marshal'sPluck.
I asked the man if I could buyhis paper from him.
(21:57):
When he was done, the managreed, left the bench and asked
nothing of me for the paper.
I took the man's place on thebench and, to my limited
abilities, began reading thearticle.
It seems the editor of the Timesmay have wanted to extract some
humor from the incident as hepoked fun at the gunplay for
which I was involved.
I, on the other hand, thoughtdifferently and was confumbled
(22:19):
over the bag of nails printed inthe paper.
The headline of the article didnot even get Bob Shaw's name
right.
The editor called him FrankShaw.
The article did not hold wateron what took place at the Lone
Star Saloon.
I could not see any humor inthis odd stick editor.
In my opinion, the editor gavethe Citizen's Dodge a lick and a
(22:39):
promise.
The article was a lot of blowcompared to the bosh of my
aching arm.
After reading the article Iwanted more than any man alive
to get the hell out of Dodge.
So I, frank Buskirk, did justthat.
I got the hell out of Dodge anddeparted, stamped in history
with the sound of the goose lessclean of the facts.
(23:15):
At the Wild West Podcast, we areon an inspiring mission to
revive the spirit of the classicdime novel, reimagining it for
a modern audience whileaccounting for inflation in both
price and narrative depth.
Our goal is to invigorate thesecaptivating stories, ensuring
that they not only echo thecharm of their predecessors but
(23:37):
also resonate with contemporarythemes and characters.
In doing so, we create aliterary experience that honors
the rich tradition ofstorytelling, allowing these
tales to thrive and evolve,captivating readers for
generations to come.
If you are interested inpurchasing one or more of these
(23:58):
fully illustrated dime novelpublications.
You can click on the linkprovided on the description page
of this podcast.
That's it for now.
We have some thrilling news toshare.
Wild West Podcast is takingyour listening experiences up a
notch with the launch ofexclusive content.
(24:19):
For only $3 a month, you'llgain access to premium material
packed with in-depth analysisand expert insights into the
fascinating history we love toexplore.
Your support is vital inhelping us uncover the real
stories of the American West.
Join us on this incrediblejourney.
Subscribe today, don't forget.
You can catch all our episodeson popular platforms like Apple
(24:42):
Podcasts, spotify, Amazon Music,pandora and at
wildwestpodcastbuzzsproutcomPlus.
Connect with us on Facebook atfacebookcom, slash
wildwestpodcast and dive intoour YouTube channel.
Just as I shall select my horse when I am about
to go see the elephant or becomeoafish in my campsite when I
propose to take a rest, so shallI have the right to choose my
resting place when I am about todepart from life.
With early fall past, the skieshad been low and gray.
These past few days we had beendriving our herd along the
(00:34):
western trail from south Texas,taking us two months until we
arrived at Sawlog Creek.
We were very glad to reach theend of our journey.
There's a military road hereleading in the direction of Fort
Larned.
Just southwest of our temporarycamp is Dodge City.
Saw Log Creek is a sacred placethat transcends everyday
(00:54):
concerns, casting them into atimelessness of a creek and its
surrounding trees.
About our feet are only thebrown remains of fallen leaves.
Our feet are only the brownedremains of fallen leaves.
The nearby creek bed hascreated a shelter of growth over
time into a batched oasis oftrees among the flat plains, a
perfect resting place withplenty of water.
(01:14):
After a long ride on the trail,when the cattle turned loose to
range over the flat plains, itwas my job to make circuit
around the range twice a day.
Rebel Jack, who rode with mewas to turn the cattle back that
were inclined to wander beyondthe bounds.
The country was full of game,so we carried our guns and had a
great deal of sport, mixed withrough living and hard riding.
(01:37):
The autumn days waned towardthe inevitable colder weather
ahead, each nightfall comingsooner than the one before.
We were late in the season andmost of the cattle drives had
come to the end, and with anyluck we could find a buyer for
the herd.
The trail boss, quincy, wantedto graze cattle on the land for
a few days before we took theherd into Dodge.
(01:57):
Jim Quincy, along with TexasJack, had gone ahead into Dodge
to find some buyers.
On the afternoon we saw a riderapproach our camp.
It was Saturday evening,november 3rd 1877, when a
lonesome rider approached ourcamp.
(02:17):
We'd been in the area for abouta week.
Bentley had just come up fromthe creek to help me tend the
horses also spotted a rider.
Hey, bentley, I shouted.
Would you stop barking at aknot and bring me my gun belt?
I see a rider coming and Ican't tell if he's friendly.
I see him too.
He's riding a pacing horse,bentley shouted.
(02:38):
Bentley picked up his pace,retrieved my gun belt from the
chuck wagon and stood next to mewhen the rider entered our camp
.
I watched the rider dismounthis horse.
He seemed eager to have aconversation with our trail boss
.
He approached our chuck wagonholding the reins with one hand,
while his other kept closeproximity to his holstered
(02:58):
revolver.
Howdy boys, can anyone heretell me who's in charge of this
outfit?
He asked.
Each man in camp had come in forevening dinner and watched
cautiously as the man took theliberty to tie his horse to a
string line made between twotrees.
My name's Bob Shaw and I'mlooking for a man by the name of
Dick Moore.
(03:19):
He's known around these partsas Texas Dick.
He said what business do youhave with Texas Dick?
I asked.
Well, he's a good friend ofmine.
Last summer Moore and I drove aherd of cattle from San Antonio
up this way.
Bob Shaw looked down, paused asecond and kicked the ground.
Some of my friends in town saidhe had a herd of cattle out
(03:41):
this direction, so I thought I'dpay him a visit.
Well, he's not here, I said.
But you're welcome to stay fordinner.
We have made up a good pot ofbeans and Joe over there shot a
deer this morning.
Why don't you grab up a plateand settle in for a meal and
campfire chat?
We all moved in the directionof the chuck wagon.
(04:01):
Bob Shaw moved his way to thefront before our bean master
lowered the swinging legattached to the chuck box.
The box held ten plates, cups,spoons, knives and forks.
Bob and the rest of the boyshelped themselves to the eating
utensils, filled their platesand settled in around the
campfire.
Each man was hungry and it tooksome time to strike up a
(04:23):
conversation.
I watched Shaw with interest ashe continued to look up.
He took a few glances at alarge overhanging branch, the
same tree branch of the oak treewhere I rested.
Shaw broke the silence of themen eaten.
You men picked a very peculiarplace to make your fire, said
Bob.
I was a bit troubled by Shaw.
(04:44):
Make your fire, said Bob.
I was a bit troubled by Shaw'sboldness about our camp.
In my mind he was just ablatherskite.
He first took the liberty totie off his horse and now he was
making comments about thelayout of our campsite.
I suspect he might just betrying to slumguzzle us.
(05:04):
I set my half-filled tin plateof a meal on a nearby rock which
held the fire pit in place.
I didn't want my eating tointerfere with what Shaw had to
say.
I sent him a harsh look andwaited for him to speak.
Well, I hope you don't takeoffense by my comment about your
camp layout, said Shaw.
I just want to point out thatan innocent man was lynched on
(05:24):
the very branch overhanging yourhead.
Shaw pointed upward to a thickoak branch.
Yep, he was hanged by mistake.
The men sitting around thecampfire froze with curiosity.
I could tell they wanted toknow more about Shaw's story.
The excitement of knowingShaw's story about the hanging
wired the boys like they were ona fast horse hanging onto its
(05:46):
manes.
I, on the other hand, felt likemy brain was on fast forward
and there was no off switch.
I noticed each breath Shaw took, the moisture from his lungs
rising like thick plumes witheach exhale.
Go on.
I said, tell your story.
Shaw stuffed his mouth with aspoonful of beans and muffled
(06:07):
out the words.
It was back a few years when Ifirst told this story.
The story, well circulated inDodge, happened in early April
1876.
A gang of horse thieves, onegoing by the name of John Cole,
stole eight horses.
This thievery happened about300 miles from here, over at
Wellington, bob paused, reachedover to his tin cup, took a
(06:31):
large gulp and continued.
After the gang of thievesseized some prized horses from
some local settlers in SumnerCounty, they rode hard to Dodge
City to dispose of the booty.
Before reaching Dodge the gangsplit up Cole and another man
took to Oferley, sold theirstock, split the profits and
then separated, each taking adifferent route.
(06:52):
Cole went north and ended uphere at Sawlog Creek.
Bob hesitated, looked around thecampsite and took in another
large spoonful of his meal.
It was here at Saw Log Creek.
A man by the name of Callahanwas encamped.
Callahan, a minister's son, wasengaged in picking up buffalo
bones and hauling them to therailroad where he commanded a
(07:13):
fair price.
Being a frontiersman's camp andnotably open to everyone, cole
took advantage and rested in theshade near this here creek
explained Bob.
What John Cole did not knowwhile he rested under the shade
near this here creek explainedBob.
What John Cole did not knowwhile he rested under the shade
of this here tree is that a bodyof vigilantes had followed a
hot trail into Dodge City.
Callahan, on the other hand, byhis good nature, had accepted
(07:36):
the company of a horse thief inhis camp.
Bob looked over to the eveningblaze of the fire.
Spit shook his head.
While the fire sizzled, thevigilantes recovered some of the
stolen horses and dodged.
They asked for the buyer whosold them the horses.
The buyer said it was a manfrom Overly.
The vigilantes burned theirhorses and rode hard to the
(07:57):
small village of Overly.
They met with the man who hadsold the horses and dodged.
The man in Overly, told thevigilantes, there were two men
who had sold him the horses andone of them rode in the
direction of Sawlog Creek.
It didn't take long for thevigilantes to overtake this
place.
At Sawlog Bob stood up andpointed in the direction where
(08:18):
the riders must have entered thecamp.
The vigilantes dismounted andsurrounded the bone pickers'
camp and found Callahan alone.
Callahan, scared out of hiswits at gunpoint, informed the
vigilantes that Cole had gonedown to the creek to catch some
fish.
Bob snickered under his breathand shook his head with delight.
In no time the vigilantesspotted the young outlaw.
(08:40):
Cole came up the bank with afishing pole to declare his
prize catch a fish.
When the vigilantes overcameCole.
These vigilantes hid behind thetrees laying in an ambush.
As they easily overtook Cole.
The surprise was so great itcaused Cole to drop his mess of
fish.
Cole was taken back to the bonepickers camp.
Along the way he kept repeatinghimself, asking his captors
(09:03):
what did I do?
Someone tell me what did I do?
Bob paused, looked around thecampfire as if to check to see
if he had our interest.
None of his captors said a worduntil they reached the bone
pickers camp.
It must have been pretty clearto Cole how his day was going to
end.
The vigilantes who'd remained atcamp made ready two hanging
(09:24):
nooses, struck over the branchof this here oak tree.
Shaw gave a pause and a deepbreath, pointed up to the tree
branch hanging over my head,sighed and continued on with his
story, with Callahan continuingto claim his innocence and Cole
asking someone to tell him whathe'd done.
The hangman thought both Coleand Callahan were lying.
(09:46):
Callahan, already bound, hishands roped together behind him,
was gagged, hooded and placedon a horse.
Bob jumped up suddenly andthrew his hands behind him as if
he were bound, going to thehangman's noose.
Then he took a minor squat,looking at each of us in the
eyes.
I could see the devil's glow inhis eyes, almost to enjoyment
(10:06):
as he continued his story.
Cole, I was told, did not goeasy.
He kicked and cussed at hiscaptors until one of them hit
him over the head with the backend of a Navy Colt revolver.
It didn't take long for thehangman to dress Cole up for the
occasion, to place him on ahorse next to Callahan Noose,
and all Suddenly, the boss manon his horse made up his mind.
(10:27):
He tipped his hat to the twohangmen who stood next to their
horses.
The two hangmen, anxiouslywaiting for their two borrowed
mounts to be relieved oftemporary riders, eagerly
slapped the rear end of bothhorses.
Bob jumped up from where he wassquatting and began imitating
the noose around his neck,playing out the role of a
dangling man.
(10:48):
Cole must have come due aboutthat time, for he shouted
fiercely, so fiercely that hisscreams could be heard across
the valley until the noosesilenced him.
The last sound heard was themoaning of that old oak branch
above our heads.
Then, dead silence.
The branch creaked once moreunder the sway of each man.
The bodies dangled with theirtoes pointed straight downward,
(11:10):
very slowly revolving.
Each man was dead as a stone.
The boss man rode over, reachedout with a rifle and poked at
each body.
When he touched coal heoscillated slightly, then kicked
once more.
This must have scared the bossman, because he snappishly
ordered his men to ride out thebone pickers camp.
All at once the vigilantesyelped a war cry, riding out on
(11:32):
the plains, leaving the two menswaying in the dust.
All of us sat in silence.
Each man's face could be seenin the glow of the fire.
All silent, all still.
The story of an innocent manbeing hung was hard to take in.
My mind was sent reeling,unable to comprehend or process
(11:53):
the images of how ruthless menbecame when packed together like
starving wolves.
Men became, when packedtogether, like starving wolves.
Bentley, who sat next to me,shook his head in disgust and
looked over to Bob Shaw, whoseemed to be highfalutin by his
story.
I'll be higgly-piggly.
Bentley exclaimed Did theybring those men to justice?
Bentley asked.
Bob stood up.
(12:15):
Nope, it was just a bag ofnails.
Not enough money for the FordCounty Sheriff to travel the
distance, replied Bob.
After a few letters were sentbetween the Governor and Sheriff
Bassett, the Governor refusedto supply the funds needed to
bring cause to justice.
Boys, I'd best be going, saidBob.
He held his empty plate infront of him throwing the
(12:37):
remaining coffee from his tincup into the fire.
He turned and walked in thedirection of the chuck wagon,
untied his horse mounted and,with one kick, rode off into the
dark of night After the lastsound of hooves could be heard
in the distance.
Bentley pulled over beside me.
The rest of the drovers left thecampfire to attend to their
(12:57):
bedding.
You think he's an honest man,bentley asked.
No, I do not.
I replied.
I think we need to fork a houseinto Dodge tomorrow morning and
find Texas Dick.
I agree, bentley said.
Do you think we need to go now,before this is a catawampus?
I do, I replied.
(13:18):
But we have a responsibilityfor the herd.
So we'll just hope the TexasDick returns with our trail boss
tomorrow.
Besides, he's probably in themiddle of some scamper juice
getting ready to do a littleperrouting.
Yeah, I guess you're right,said Bentley.
He'd be mad as hell if weinterrupted him painting his
nose while he was enjoying theelephant.
(13:39):
The next morning sun rose overthe smoldering remains of our
campfire.
The camp grease belly was hardat frying bacon and bacon
biscuits in the Dutch oven.
The smell of breakfast broughteach man and camp to foot.
Some left for the trees, othersstretched.
I pulled my bed saddle andblanket from the ground, making
(13:59):
ready for the cattle drive intotown.
Some of the boys came in fromnight watch others to eat
breakfast and a few went to thecreek to bathe.
It did not take long for us toclear out our camp and saddle
our horses.
Everyone was intent on endingthe drive, getting paid and
taking in some of thefestivities Dodge City had to
(14:20):
offer.
While we were saddling up, oneof the boys noticed a buggy
coming up the trail.
As the buggy came nearer we sawthat there were two occupants
in the rig beside the driver.
When the buggy drew up we sawour boss.
Our boss was with a buyer andhis companion, but there was no
sign of Texas Dick.
Our boss man Quincy stepped outof the rig, dragged out his
(14:43):
saddle from under the seat andinvited the buyer and his
companion to breakfast.
The buyer declined and saidthat he and his partner needed
to attend to another herd justsouth of where we were camped.
It did not take Bentley long tobust in on a conversation.
Like some old leaky mouth.
He told our boss man Quincyabout the man named Shaw who
rode into our camp.
(15:03):
The boss man motioned me over.
He told me to take a few of theboys into town and check on
Texas Dick.
He gave us each $20 gold piece.
He said we would get the rest.
When we drove the cattle intothe stockyards the boss man told
the four of us not to take long, for the cattle were to be
shipped from the railroad.
Tomorrow afternoon it was aboutmid-morning when Bentley,
(15:28):
honeymoon and I rode into Dodge.
As we rode through the southside of town, honeymoon pointed
out a hitched horse in front ofthe Lone Star Saloon.
Hey, is that their Texas Dickshorse over there, asked
Honeymoon.
The boys and I decided tocircle around town to a vacant
lot within a block of the rearof the dance hall.
Honeymoon was left to hold thehorses.
(15:49):
Then Bentley and I took off ourbelts and hung them on the
pommels of our saddles.
We secreted our six shootersinside the waistbands of our
trousers.
The Lone Star Dance Hall was atthe beginning of its day, with a
few revelers when we enteredthe place.
When we crossed the threshold,we saw Bob Shaw at the bar
taking in some scamper juice.
I could see from a distancethat Shaw had on him a pair of
(16:12):
barking irons.
The Lone Star had just openedand the boisterous cattlemen
started to spin freely, it didnot take long for the dance hall
to become crowded.
A steady stream of droversentered the door as some drovers
took to the bar, while otherspicked out a lady dancer and
went to dancing.
The piano player banged outlively tunes as the dance hall
(16:33):
girls flirted and giggled withthe cowboys.
The girls danced playfully,pulling away frequently from
groping hands.
The start of a drinking day bynoon was nothing if not typical
of most saloons, especially inthe Lone Star Dance Hall.
Bob Shaw started spending hismoney as well as drinking freely
and at the end of a quadrillegave vent to his self-inflicted
(16:56):
hilarity in an old-fashionedComanche yell.
I could see the situation wasbecoming like hair in the butter
when the bartender took Shaw totask.
The bartender must haverecognized Shaw's bad intentions
.
Shaw raised his shot glass andyelled out we have a
four-flusher in this room andI'm about to call him out.
The bartender, a brute of a man, leaned over the bar and called
(17:22):
out to Shaw, who yelled out asecond time.
Hey you, cowboy, keep the nosedown, shouted the bartender.
If you're looking to crawlsomebody's hump this afternoon,
this ain't the place to do it.
Shaw responded to the bartenderby telling the bartender to
shut his big bazoo and shovedoff his black-eyed Susan
pointing it directly at thebartender's head.
The bartender scampered out thedoor.
(17:42):
I could hear him in thedistance yelling for the marshal
.
I looked over on the dance floorand saw Texas Dick trying to
make a mash on a red-headed girl.
So I decided to get a wiggle onthe situation and joined in on
the set.
I moved out on the dance floorand picked out a red-headed,
freckled girl.
I took one big square danceswing with my new freckled
(18:06):
friend and pulled up next toTexas Dick.
I told him he should take carefor a man by the name of Shaw
may be on the shoot.
At the conclusion of the dance,bob Shaw grabbed Texas Dick by
his shoulder from behind, yankedhim away from the red-headed
girl.
The music stopped.
All who stood close to thesituation froze.
(18:26):
I reached inside my shirt andplaced my hand on my barking
iron.
I could see the fires of furyand hatred smoldering in Shaw's
small, narrowed eyes.
I could tell by his posture hewas hatred smoldering in Shaw's
small, narrowed eyes.
I could tell by his posture hewas weighing the pros and cons
of the various and creativemeans available to him to
extract his revenge.
You might be a big man in Texas, you four-flusher of a thieving
(18:46):
bastard.
Shaw shouted.
But the name Texas Dick don'tmean shit to me, or Kansas.
I watched as the whites inShaw's eyes turned a pure black
and as his iris glowered teal.
Texas Dick reached out his leftarm, motioning me to pull back.
I could see the symbols, linesand dots formed in Shaw's iris.
The figure in Shaw's eyes wasTexas Dick.
(19:08):
Shaw's eyes widened.
Final glance into Shaw'sfurious eyes confirmed a
possible outcome Shaw was goingto kill Texas Dick.
When Ed Masterson entered thedoor he saw Shaw pull his
barking iron and a hog's head ofblood in his eye, ready to
(19:28):
relieve Texas Dick of hisexistence.
The jig is up.
Texas Dick yelled Shaw.
I'm going to send your flannelmouth into a world where hard
cases like you can meet thedevil.
Ed Masterson stepped up in thedirection of Ed Shaw and Texas
Dick Give me the gun, shaw.
Ed said You're drunk.
You don't really want to dothis.
(19:48):
He added, walking toward Shawas he spoke this son of a bitch
stole $40 from me.
He's a thieving card cheat andhe's going to pay for it, shaw
said.
Masterson's reply to theresistance was a solid blow to
Shaw's head.
Shaw struck the floor like ablacksmith hammer on the back of
a crooked horseshoe.
Get out of here while you can.
(20:09):
Ed told Texas Dick, I don'twant any trouble in here today.
Texas Dick and I moved out of EdMasterson's way.
We started to back out the doorwhen the downed mud still of a
man named Shaw came to and firedhis revolver in the direction
of Ed Masterson.
The bullet spat out of Shaw'sbarrel.
Shaw's first shot hit Mastersonin the ribs.
(20:30):
The bullet exited out his rightshoulder, propelling him
backward and onto the floor.
The dance hall patrons hit thefloor.
A second gunshot from Shawcracked into the air as loud as
thunder, hitting Texas Dick inthe right groin.
I had made it to the doorway andwas looking in when Shaw
managed to get off a third shothitting me in the left arm.
(20:50):
Black filled the edges of myvision and the only thing I
could hear was my own heartbeat.
I looked over at Ed MastersonShifting his revolver to his
left hand.
Ed fired back.
The first shot hit Shaw in theleft arm and the second shot hit
his right leg.
Ed, bleeding profusely pulledhimself from the floor and
dragged Shaw off to jail.
(21:11):
Drag Shaw off to jail.
After the shooting I was treatedby Dr Galland and was held up
in the Dodge house recoveringfrom my wound.
I'd been under the doctor'sorders to rest for five days.
I got tired of that stuffy roomand decided to venture out onto
the boardwalk to get some freshair.
I pulled up by a gentleman whowas being entertained by the
(21:34):
newspaper he was reading.
Looking over the man's shoulder, I read the headlines of the
Dodge City Times, the headlinefor the story, printed in bold
Frontier Fun.
Included underneath theheadline was the subtitle Frank
Shaw Tries to Remedy HisGrievances with a Revolver and
Get Left a Deputy Marshal'sPluck.
I asked the man if I could buyhis paper from him.
(21:57):
When he was done, the managreed, left the bench and asked
nothing of me for the paper.
I took the man's place on thebench and, to my limited
abilities, began reading thearticle.
It seems the editor of the Timesmay have wanted to extract some
humor from the incident as hepoked fun at the gunplay for
which I was involved.
I, on the other hand, thoughtdifferently and was confumbled
(22:19):
over the bag of nails printed inthe paper.
The headline of the article didnot even get Bob Shaw's name
right.
The editor called him FrankShaw.
The article did not hold wateron what took place at the Lone
Star Saloon.
I could not see any humor inthis odd stick editor.
In my opinion, the editor gavethe Citizen's Dodge a lick and a
(22:39):
promise.
The article was a lot of blowcompared to the bosh of my
aching arm.
After reading the article Iwanted more than any man alive
to get the hell out of Dodge.
So I, frank Buskirk, did justthat.
I got the hell out of Dodge anddeparted, stamped in history
with the sound of the goose lessclean of the facts.
(23:15):
At the Wild West Podcast, we areon an inspiring mission to
revive the spirit of the classicdime novel, reimagining it for
a modern audience whileaccounting for inflation in both
price and narrative depth.
Our goal is to invigorate thesecaptivating stories, ensuring
that they not only echo thecharm of their predecessors but
(23:37):
also resonate with contemporarythemes and characters.
In doing so, we create aliterary experience that honors
the rich tradition ofstorytelling, allowing these
tales to thrive and evolve,captivating readers for
generations to come.
If you are interested inpurchasing one or more of these
(23:58):
fully illustrated dime novelpublications.
You can click on the linkprovided on the description page
of this podcast.
That's it for now.
We have some thrilling news toshare.
Wild West Podcast is takingyour listening experiences up a
notch with the launch ofexclusive content.
(24:19):
For only $3 a month, you'llgain access to premium material
packed with in-depth analysisand expert insights into the
fascinating history we love toexplore.
Your support is vital inhelping us uncover the real
stories of the American West.
Join us on this incrediblejourney.
Subscribe today, don't forget.
You can catch all our episodeson popular platforms like Apple
(24:42):
Podcasts, spotify, Amazon Music,pandora and at
wildwestpodcastbuzzsproutcomPlus.
Connect with us on Facebook atfacebookcom, slash
wildwestpodcast and dive intoour YouTube channel.
Popular Podcasts
On Purpose with Jay Shetty
I’m Jay Shetty host of On Purpose the worlds #1 Mental Health podcast and I’m so grateful you found us. I started this podcast 5 years ago to invite you into conversations and workshops that are designed to help make you happier, healthier and more healed. I believe that when you (yes you) feel seen, heard and understood you’re able to deal with relationship struggles, work challenges and life’s ups and downs with more ease and grace. I interview experts, celebrities, thought leaders and athletes so that we can grow our mindset, build better habits and uncover a side of them we’ve never seen before. New episodes every Monday and Friday. Your support means the world to me and I don’t take it for granted — click the follow button and leave a review to help us spread the love with On Purpose. I can’t wait for you to listen to your first or 500th episode!
The Breakfast Club
The World's Most Dangerous Morning Show, The Breakfast Club, With DJ Envy And Charlamagne Tha God!
The Joe Rogan Experience
The official podcast of comedian Joe Rogan.