Chapter 18

Early the next morning we had breakfast with Grandpa, and the rest of the family. Judge Mitchell showed up at the stables as we were hitching the mules to the wagons.

"Clay, I need to speak to you before you leave. Do you have a minute?" he asked.

Going over to him, I said, "Sure, Judge. We was just getting ready to go. What can I do for you this morning?"

"The telegraph we sent to Fort Laramie hasn't had any results as of yet, so here is a warrant for Jack McCall. I'm also giving you ten blank warrants, to use as needed, to get to the bottom of why he was not brought in for a proper trial," Judge Mitchell said.

"Thanks, Judge. These will help. I'll be back as soon as I can. Please keep me informed by telegraph if you hear anything," I said.

Then he handed me a dozen extra badges and said, "Be careful, Clay, most of these camps do not have any law so you may have to deputize some help but since you are a deputy marshal yourself. You only have the power to temporarily deputize someone. Try to urge the camps to appoint some marshals or constables to try and keep the law, and to try to get them to vote for a sheriff.

"Since this is a territory and not a state, yet, everything falls under federal jurisdiction. This is just too big of an area for one man to cover. Also, use your own judgment if you see someone that may make another good deputy marshal. Temporarily deputize them, until the regular marshal ... or myself ... can make it official. Let them know that the pay is sixty dollars a month, and found. If you need to form a posse, the pay for that is two dollars a day, per man."

After he left, I grabbed my medical bag and was tying it to the back of my horse, after adding extra ammunition.

I was putting a little food into my saddlebags when Grandpa said, "Looks like you're about to head out. You need me to come with you, to back you up?"

"No. I shouldn't have much trouble. Jack McCall was a coward so if he's still around, I'll bring him back here for trial. There should not be any problems that I would need back-up on. Judge Mitchell was just talking to me and gave me power to deputize any help I would need, locally. You just go ahead and take the family back home, while I ride ahead. I'm not taking the wagons with me. I need to move fast if I'm going to try to catch him before he can leave the area," I said.

I then kissed all my wives goodbye, mounted my horse, and headed for Deadwood. I made it in about two and a half hours, not wanting to push my mount too hard.

Upon arriving, it seemed like the whole town had turned into a madhouse. People were lining up at the undertaker's, and paying six bits a head to view Hickok's body. They were also lined up to enter the Number Ten saloon, to view the bloodstained table and the chair where Hickok was killed. They were acting as if the circus had come to town.

The 'straw that broke the camel's back', though, was when I saw the infamous Soapy Smith selling pieces of an Indian's scalp. I knew that if I didn't stop this really quickly, it could start an Indian massacre.

Going up to him, I grabbed him and said, "Just what the hell do you think you're doing? Trying to start a massacre? We're trying to stop all the Indian fighting, and you go out and murder an Indian, and try to sell bits of his scalp! Give me one good reason why I shouldn't arrest you for murder, right now?"

"Marshal, I didn't kill anyone. A couple of days ago this Mexican comes riding in with a head of the young Buck Indian. He was bragging about how he was attacked, and was getting free drinks in all the saloons. I didn't do anything but scalp an already dead head, and try to sell pieces of it."

"Is everybody around here a fool? Don't they know how the Indians will react to this news? Some other damn fool will go out and try to collect himself a head, and start another damn Indian war? Where is this Mexican now?" I asked.

"He was bragging all over town 'till he went into the restaurant. Aunt Lou took a frying pan to his head, and ran him out of town," he claimed.

"I'm starting to think that Aunt Lou is the only one in this whole damn town with a lick of sense! Now I'll tell you what, Soapy. I know all about your different scams. I even know the scam named 'soapy', where you sell bars of soap for a dollar each. The people are told to find the bars of soap with a ten-dollar bill wrapped in them, and just enough bars with one-dollar bills to keep the marks interested. I also know that the one that gets the ten, in the first few bars, is your confederate.

"So being as that may, I want you out of the Black Hills within the next twenty-four hours, or I will arrest you ... or maybe I'll just turn you over to the miners you cheated," I said.

"Marshal, that's not enough time! It will take me longer than that to get out of here, 'cause the nearest large town is Cheyenne, and that's over a hundred miles away!" Soapy cried.

"Then you'd better get your ass in gear. I see you after that twenty-four hour period, and you'll find your ass in jail," I said.

I then headed over to the undertaker's to find out what was going on. The man at the door tried to bar my way saying I had to pay to go in. I slammed him into the wall and asked, "Do you think you can make me?" Walking in I saw the undertaker had propped Hickok up as if on display, and was charging people to see him. This really pissed me, off.

I grabbed him and shouted, "Just what the hell is going on here? This was a great man, not some carnival freak. Why hasn't he been buried already?"

"Just trying to make a dollar Marshal was no harm done!" he said.

"Didn't he have enough money to pay for his burial? I ask.

About this time, the door slammed open, and Charlie Utter and a large plain looking woman entered looking very mad and shouting at the undertaker, Seeing that I had a hold of the undertaker, they quieted down.

Turning to them while still holding onto the undertaker's arm I asked, "Charlie, what's going on around here, and who's your companion?"

"Doc it's good to see you again. Let me introduce you to miss Jane Canary, otherwise known as Calamity Jane. She was also a good friend of Bill's, and we just came to see about putting an end to this mockery," Charlie explained.

Giving the undertaker a shake I said, "I asked you a question! Didn't Bill have enough money to pay for his own funeral?"

Charlie said, "When Bill was killed, he had over two hundred dollars on a table in front of him. He had plenty of money but this greedy bastard is trying to make money from Bill's dead body. Look he even stole his guns and his boots. Bill has a young widow back East, and we mean to see that she gets his belongings!"

I slammed the undertaker against the wall and shouted, "Is this right? Besides putting him on display you robbed him, and stole his belongings?"

The undertaker started stuttering, "But his boots and guns are worth a small fortune, and he isn't going to need them, now."

"You get his boots on him now! And give Charlie Utter all the rest of his belongings including his money, so he can send them to his widow. Then you can put him in your best coffin and give him a deluxe funeral at sundown, tonight. You can also include a marble stone with his name, and the dates of his birth and death. You can get the dates from Charlie, here. He will also tell you what else to put on the stone. And you're going to do all this out of your own greedy little pocket. If not you can plan on spending the next few years in prison for grave robbery," I explained while shaking him the whole time.