not eject it. He was trying to pry the cartridge from the chamber with his pocket knife. About this time he glanced up to see Bandit standing up begging the cook to give him a piece of leftover stew meat from the big frying pan he had in his hand. Bass loved Bandit like he loved all of his animals. Instead of giving the dog a piece of meat, the cook threw the whole pan of scalding grease on the dog and down his mouth. The dog took his last breath and died. Bass jumped to his feet and his rifle went off, shooting the stuck round, killing the cook on the spot. The posseman and the prisoners weren’t sure if his sudden reaction caused the gun to go off, or if Bass was defending his dog. The grief welled up inside Bass. He wanted to cry but would not let himself cry in front of all of these men.
There were too many witnesses to deny what had happened. Judge Parker was not very forgiving of a lawman who broke the law. He did not know what he was going to do. Killing a man over a dog would probably not sit well with Judge Parker, even though it might have been an accident.
It would be a long night and a long next day without food, so he ordered his posse man to cook something from the wagon. Meanwhile, he continued to prise the spent .38-.40 round out of the chamber of the rifle and finish cleaning the rifle so that it would be ready the next day.
The next morning, after they had packed the wagons and the prisoners, along with the dead cook, the marshal and his men resumed the trip back to Fort Smith. He started to think about the first man he had killed on this trip, Jim Webb. Webb was an outlaw who had drifted into the Chickasaw Nation from Texas and had gone to work for Billy Washington, a prominent rancher who was a partner with Dick McLish, a prominent Chickasaw Indian. They owned a huge ranch in the southern portion of the Chickasaw Nation and were very wealthy. Webb became the foreman of the ranch and supervised 45 cowboys and 7 gun hands, several of whom were negros and Indians. Webb ran the ranch with an iron hand, and nobody contested that.
A negro preacher, William Steward, owned a small ranch that joined the Washington-McLish Ranch. He had set a fire on his ranch that spread out of control to the bigger ranch next door. Jim Webb was furious about it and rode over to the preacher’s ranch to confront him. After a violent argument, Webb drew his gun and killed the preacher. After Bass had been given a warrant for Webb’s arrest, he went to the ranch to serve the warrant, along with Floyd Wilson, a posseman. When they arrived at the ranch, there were only a few men there. They did not have on their badges and stopped to ask if they could share some breakfast. Webb was immediately suspicious of the men. He kept his hand on his gun the whole time that Bass and Floyd were eating. Eventually, out on the porch with Webb and another gunman who worked at the ranch, Webb took his eye off the marshal just long enough for Bass to put his arm around Webb’s neck and draw his gun. The marshal aimed it at the other gunman, who still reached for his gun and shot at Bass. Bass returned fire and shot him right between his eyes. After his arrest, Webb had skipped bail and was on the run until Bass caught up with him again.
As they continued their journey to Fort Smith, gunshots rang out and bullets starting pelting the ground around the marshal and his group. There were 6 gunmen on a nearby hill, shooting at them with rifles. They were about 300 yards away. The marshal drew his rifle and killed three of the men. He then rode his horse straight at the men while continuing to fire his rifle. By the time he reached the top of the hill, the remaining 3 men had managed to reach their horses and were heading towards Muskogee, which was towards the Washington-McLish Ranch.
Bass had been heading east from the Chickasaw Nation.
He guessed that the ranch hands who had been trying to hang the man who was now his prisoner had told the owners of the ranch about that. When they told the owners about him killing Webb, they had probably sent the gun hands to try to kill him. He managed to kill two more of the men, while chasing them. They were surprised by how fast he had overtaken them and had been looking back at him with fear in their eyes. They knew they were dead men. They were riding $20 horses while he was riding a sorrel which probably would have fetched $150, even at that time.
He let the last man ride off, because he wanted the man to go back to the ranch and tell the owners. Maybe they would think twice before sending anyone after him again. Judge Parker always said it was the fear of certain punishment that caused a man to do right. Bass wanted them to feel that fear. It was to his advantage, or so he thought at the time.
The marshal collected the men’s horses and tied their bodies to them in order to take them back to his waiting chuck and prison wagon. The guard and posse man had been of little help to him. Even though they had rifles, they probably could not have made the shots that Bass had made. That’s why he made the kind of money he made. Most men would not have attempted to do the things he did to make a living. Out of a total of about 200 deputy U.S. Marshals who had worked for Judge Parker’s court in Fort Smith, over the years, almost half had been killed. One died in an insane asylum and some just quit and some were severely wounded. Very few had lasted as many years as Bass. Every time he left Fort Smith in search of prisoners he realized he might not return alive, but he could not help but love the job. The marshal knew he was helping the Indians who had been so good to him when he was a runaway.
As the group rode into Fort Smith, they gathered immediate attention and a crowd started to follow. Scenes like this were the main entertainment in Fort Smith. This was the show that proceeded the big show: the hangings. The marshal rode tall and proud in his saddle, like the returning warrior that he was. Most of the people in town admired him. All feared him. Some hated him.
Once they arrived at the jail, the task began of unloading the prisoners, who were shackled to a long chain and led into the jail building. The guard and the posse man helped Bass lock them up for transport, being careful not to give any of them the chance to reach a gun. The transfer went without incident for a change. It was not unusual for one or more of the prisoners to attempt an escape at this point in the trip.
After Bass unloaded his prisoners and took care of the burial of the dead outlaws and Jim Webb, the marshal went in to see Judge Parker. Normally he loved going to see the judge. The judge cared about Bass as if he were a son and spent many hours teaching him the law. Most of the marshals that worked for the judge were close to being outlaws themselves and he had a hard time keeping them from doing wrong. Judge Parker had been forced to charge several of his deputies with murder over the years, just for killing people with no good reason. In fact, he required each marshal to write him and ask for a writ before they were allowed to arrest a person that did not have a writ against them from the judge to begin with. The exception would be where they witnessed a crime as it happened. Sometimes, if they were Indians, the Lighthorse would already have them under arrest and a marshal simply took custody from them.
“Good job, marshall,” Judge Parker said, “I see you have brought in 10 live men and I heard you had to kill Jim Webb?”
“Yes sir,” Bass replied to the judge “and I had to kill 5 gunmen who I think were sent from the Washington-McLish Ranch to avenge Webb’s death. They ambushed us on the way back to Fort Smith. I let one of them escape, so he could tell them what happened. Maybe that will stop them from trying that again.”
“I doubt that will stop those people.” Parker replied. “They don’t seem to have any sense in spite of being wealthy. Well, I think the court owes you about $5,900. There was a $5,000 bounty on Webb put up by the bonding agent when Webb skipped out on a $17,000 bail and we owe you another $900 in fees according to your report on distance and arrests. Are you going to buy more horses with the money?”
“Yes sir,” Bass answered. “And I also hate to tell you this, but I killed my negro cook.”
“How did that happen?,” the judge replied.
“Well sir, I was cleaning my rifle when the cook threw a frying pan full of hot grease on my dog Bandit when I just jumped up and my rifle went off. I know that wasn’t the right thing to happen. I rescued that dog from a cruel
