Free Lady at the O.K. Corral by Ann Kirschner Page A

Tombstone left the driver and one passenger dead, and a cargo of silver worth $25,000 missing. Stealing the U.S. mail in addition to the silver kicked the crime into the higher category of a federal offense, and brought deputy U.S. marshal Virgil Earp and Pima County deputy sheriff Wyatt Earp into the picture. Suspecting the involvement of the cowboys, the Earps set off on horseback at midnight, with the county forces, led by Johnny Behan, in another posse. The Earps caught one suspect and turned him over—with considerable reluctance—to Sheriff Behan. Their worst suspicions were confirmed when the prisoner casually walked out of jail a few hours later and disappeared into the streets of Tombstone.
    Wyatt dearly wanted to make a couple of spectacular arrests before the next election, when he might wrest the sheriff seat from Behan. His campaign platform was simple: only Earp could end the crime spree. There was also money at stake, since Wells Fargo had posted a handsome reward for the Benson killers. Wyatt offered the Wells Fargo bounty as a bribe to Ike Clanton, a friend of the thieves, if he would lure the robbers, dead or alive, into Wyatt’s trap. If Johnny’s corruption could be exposed at the same time, Wyatt would move ahead on all fronts—with the bonus of clearing the name of his friend Doc Holliday, who had been accused of taking part in the stagecoach robbery by none other than his lover, a very drunk Big Nose Kate.
    The town’s collective nerves were set even more on edge when an outbreak of Indian hostilities was reported. “Our city is in a big excitement at present, the Indians are on the war path all around us and have killed a great many people,” Louisa Earp wrote breathlessly to her sister. “The people here expect to be attacked any day. Passenger trains in Benson were halted, probably to bring in soldiers.” But then the threat of Apaches on the warpath was eclipsed by yet another spectacular crime.
    In early September a second stagecoach was held up and robbed of its mail and money, this one on its way to Bisbee. Again, federal and county groups competed for the bragging rights of bringing in their prisoners. This time two suspects were arrested: Pete Spence and Frank Stilwell. Both were known associates of Johnny Behan.
    As Cochise County sheriff, it was Johnny’s job to keep the cowboys in check. Instead, he always seemed to be looking the other way. Tombstone mayor Clum said that Johnny “winked at crime.” But less partisan observers like Endicott Peabody took a more nuanced view. Peabody blamed Behan for the growing cowboy influence, but suspected that the Earps were more than a little ambivalent about helping him: “The cowboys are a troublesome element and, there is unhappily, a feud between them and the marshal’s party. The misfortune is that the cowboys are countenanced by the sheriff for political reasons and the marshal’s party on the other hand is not quite above suspicion.”
    Acting governor of Arizona John Gosper conducted an independent investigation. While he too found fault with both sides, the “cow-boy element at times fully predominates,” he concluded. With the tacit consent of Sheriff Behan, cowboys were running rampant, stealing cattle, holding up stagecoaches, and attacking federal property. The governor listened to Johnny’s complaints about Virgil, and then heard Virgil leveling the same charges at Behan. His summary: “The very best law-abiding and peace-loving citizens have no confidence in the willingness of the civil officers to pursue and bring to justice that element of out-lawry so largely disturbing the sense of security.” Neither Johnny nor the Earps had shown themselves capable of compromise or coordinated action on behalf of their constituencies.
    â€œSomething must be done, and that right early,” Gosper predicted, “or very grave results will