Captain Jack Meets Billy the Kid

THIS DAY IN THE HISTORY OF A LEGEND - CAPTAIN JACK CRAWFORD MEETS BILLY THE KID

***Whether true or not, whether right or wrong, these articles all contributed to the growing legend of Billy the Kid. The following article is from 1899, not even 20 years since the Kid’s death. Already, the legend is growing.***

BILLY THE KID

A Tale of the Border

By W.W. Williams

The Kalispell Journal, Kalispell, Montana, April 20, 1899, p.2.

… As we descended into the valley Capt. Jack (Crawford) saw a solitary horseman approaching us from a distance. As he drew near we perceived that he was a beardless boy, riding a fine black gelding. Capt. Jack turned to the right to pass him, and I took to the left as a measure of safety. With a slight motion of the hand the rider signaled that I, too, must go to the right, and he appeared to ‘a heap sabe’ what our movements meant. I obeyed his command. When we met all three stopped, and Capt. Jack asked him how far it was to Fort Stanton. The answer came readily enough, and the boy asked us how far it was to water. We informed him, and told him that he had best turn back, as the Indians were out. He replied: ‘I am going to Grant county, and will keep on if the whole Apache tribe is in the way.’ He then asked us for tobacco, and Capt. Jack gave him a supply. After rolling a big cigarette and lighting it, he demanded: ‘Say, ain’t you Capt. Jack Crawford, the scout?’

‘I am,’ was the reply.

‘I thought so,’ said the youth.

Capt. Jack then said: ‘Are you not Billy, the Kid?’

‘Yes,’ he frankly answered.

‘I thought you were in the Lincoln county jail,’ said Capt. Jack, ‘under a death sentence.’

‘I was,’ said the Kid, ‘but I bade them adieu this morning.’

‘Well,’ said Capt. Jack, ‘I think you have not had a fair deal from what I have heard. I am glad to have met you and I sympathize with you.’

‘I know I have been tough,’ replied the Kid, ‘but they made out things against me that I am not guilty of.’

About six o’clock we emerged from the salt beds, when we met a[n African-American] on horseback whom I recognized as one of Billy the Kid’s band, having seen him two years before at Rincon, where he was a cook for John Kinney, the famous cattle rustler.

‘Say, boss,’ he said, as he approached, ‘have you seen anything of a young feller with a black hoss?’

‘No,’ replied Capt. Jack.

‘Mighty strange,’ said the man. ‘Here’s his tracks in the trail.’

In the meantime I was nodding my head in the affirmative to the man, but without Capt. Jack’s knowledge.

‘Sure you ain’t seen him?’ he asked.

‘We have not,’ was the reply of Capt. Jack.

I again nodded my head in the affirmative, and a broad grin passed over the man’s face. Just then Capt. Jack turned around and caught me nodding and giving the lie to his assertions. He was angry in a moment, and started to express himself when I said, ‘This man’s name is Wash. He is a friend of Billy’s, who would be very glad to have him with him.’ This gave the man the desired information, and then he told us of the escape of the Kid, and how it was effected.

The Kid was in the Lincoln county jail under a sentence of death for murder. He was in charge of a sheriff by the name of Pat Garrett. Two guards, Ollinger and Bell by name, were placed in immediate charge of the Kid during the daytime. Other men were on duty at night. They were enemies of the Kid and took great delight in taunting him with his approaching fate. All their victim would say was, ‘I may outlive you ducks yet,’ and sure enough he did. That morning Ollinger went across the street to get the Kid his breakfast, Bell being left to guard the jail. The Kid asked Bell to get a rag and rap it around one of his shackles, as it was chafing his leg. Bell procured the desired article, and, stooping down, was in the act of placing it around the shackle when the Kid reached over, took Bell’s gun out of his hip pocket and in an instant shot him fatally, although he lived some hours and was able to relate how the affair occurred. The Kid then took the shackle key out of Bell’s pocket, and in an instant was free. Ollinger heard the shot and came running across the street. The Kid, however, met him at the door with a Winchester in his hands. With an oath, he said, ‘Ollinger, you must go to meet your pard,’ and at that shot him dead. Across the street there was a fine horse tied to a post, all saddled and ready. It belonged to one of the county officers, who said he was going out into the country to see his girl, but many believed he was a friend of the Kid and had placed the horse there for his use. Be that as it may, the Kid ran quickly across the street, untied the animal and mounted him, only to be thrown. However, he caught the end of the lariat and was in the saddle again in an instant. By this time a crowd began to gather, but the Kid stood them off with his Winchester and dashed out of town. He had the fleetest horse in the country and no pursuit was made.

The Kid made his way in safety to the Chisholm ranch, in Grant county, where he found friends. Garrett, learning of his whereabouts, went to the ranch in the night and called on Chisholm, who denied knowing where the Kid was. There was no light in the room, and while they were talking someone came in and asked Chisholm if he was there. Chisholm answered in the affirmative. The Kid, for it was he, said he had come after fresh meat, but instinctively suspecting something wrong he demanded, ‘Who’s here?’ Garrett had recognized his voice, and before Chisholm could reply he fired in the direction from whence it came, well knowing that the time had come for him to kill the Kid or to be killed by him. Fortunately his aim was well taken. The desperado fell dead in his tracks with a bullet through his heart and without a groan. Thus perished Billy the Kid, whose blood-stained career is still talked of in the southwest.

Wash, who informed us of the manner of the Kid’s escape kept on in his pursuit, while we went to Fort Stanton…

(Photo: Captain Jack Crawford)