Volume 17 , Issue 34

Bill Doolin & Gang Takes Spotlight (1892)

Have you ever wondered how much confidence one should place in Bill Doolin's story about the crippled horse story and not riding in and meeting the Dalton gang in Coffeyville, Kansas the day the Dalton gang was shot to death?

Was there a selfish ambition of the two men, Bill Doolin and Bob Dalton? Was Doolin the type o that would naturally have admired the daring and youth of the Dalton boys, and likely that Doolin aspired to supersede young Bob in leadership?

We know from last week's OkieLegacy Ezine story of the Dalton gang bank robberies in Coffeyville, Kansas that Doolin's story was his horse was lame and went looking for a fresh mount and would catch up to the Dalton's in Coffeyville.

We find in Ed Nix's book entitled "Oklahomabres," chapter five, that Doolin did a period of his lonely concealment at a little ranch on the Cimarron with his active mind laying the plans for what later became the most vicious outlaw gang the Southwest ever was to know.

Bill Doolin was born to a poor but honest backwoods family in the state of Arkansas. doily's father was Mack Doolin, who reared his children as respectably as his limited understanding and the poverty of the home environment would permit. The son, Bill, was a very popular young man among the people of his home community. Bill had a commanding, magnetic personality that seemed to overshadow his limited education and the crudeness of his backwoods ways. As a young man, Bill went to Oklahoma where he worked for a considerable time as a cowhand for Oscar Halsell. Hales was very fond of the young Doolin and was deeply hurt when Doolin insisted upon taking up the life of a brigand.

It was after a few weeks at the ranch on the Cimarron, Doolin moved to the old outlaw rendezvous near the edge of the Creek Nation. Doolin had already determined in his own mind just who should become a part of the band he had planned. At the outlaw cave he would find it easy to get in touch with the men he sought. Upon his arrival he was much surprised to find Bill Dalton.

Bill Dalton was another victim of the Coffeyville tragedy, a man who had attempted to build an honorable career but who had been so demoralized and discouraged by the blow the Dalton name had received following the Coffeyville raid that he had decided to flee from his position as a member of the state legislature in California to the outlaw haunts of his dead brothers in Indian Territory. Bill Dalton had been hit with a severe blow that shattered the hopes and ambitions of his,becoming a a craven creature little resembling the splendid man he had been.

Was Doolin resentful at the presence of this Dalton family member who might jeopardize his own plans for completely dominating the new outlaw band?

Did some peculiar quirk in the minds of these outlaw leaders cause them to visualize themselves as romantic heroes? Were they extremely jealous of the peculiar prestige that belonged to such predatory characters? Did they basked in the doubtful glory of the lurid publicity they received as if it were the mellow sunshine of an early spring day?

It was reported that their egos grew and expanded until they became unbalance, distorted mentalities, capable of much that was brilliant and of a great deal that was animal.

Bill Dalton seemed to entertain a certain respect for the ability and experience of Bill Doolin, and he soon convinced Doolin that they should join hands and carry out their plans together. Dalton was willing that Doolin should lead the new organization in all its exploits. Bill Dalton agreed that he would serve as an aide and endeavor to be as helpful as possible. To some it was surprising to know just how closely these fellows' planning processes resembled those of a group of business men engaged in legitimate enterprise.

Doily first communicated with George Newcomb and Bill Raidler, close friends who had worked with him on the Halsell ranch. Newcomb was better known as "Bitter Creek" and also as "Slaughter Kid," the son of a very highly respected family living at Fort Scott, Kansas. When Newcomb first came to the Southwest country he had worked on the cattle ranges of the Slaughter family. It was here that he was called the "Slaughter Kid."

Bill Raidler was a Pennsylvanian, a man of very unusual talents. He had come of a very fine family and had received a splendid education as a young man. The cattle ranges fascinated him, and he worked for Oscar Halsell for a number of years, being from time to time given a great deal of responsibility. The wire fences and small farms had made such inroads upon the Oklahoma ranges that these men were being forced to seek other occupations. They were very resentful toward the progress which was forcing them aside. They would curse the vicissitudes of the cattle business for all they were worth, but they were ready to fight to a bitter end any attempt to force them out of it.

It was within a short time the Doolin gang was joined by Roy Daugherty, alias "Arkansas Tom," Dick West and Ol Yountis. To some "Arkansas Tom" had always seemed a peculiar paradoxical character. "Arkansas Tom", like Doolin, was born in the State of Arkansas. His parents were religious people, and two elder brothers had been educated for the ministry. His mother died when he was ten years old, and after a time his father had married a nagging wife who made life too miserable for the sensitive boy to be able to tolerate his home life any longer. When he was fourteen he ran away to the Indian Territory where he found a place on the little ranch on the Cimarron River where Doolin had visited many times. The boy had learned to admire the bravado qualities of Doolin and he believed he would like to emulate the deeds of his hero.

Somehow, outlaw tales when they were told before a glowing fireplace had a fascination appeal to the young mind. No doubt, Arkansas Tom had heard Doolin and his cohorts relate many thrilling tales in the little ranch house. He was especially excited over Doolin's wild ride following the Daltons' Coffeyville raid, and a few weeks later, when he learned that Doolin was recruiting a gang at the outlaw cave in the Creek Nation, he quickly outfitted himself and hastened to the place, where he begged to be allowed to join the band of robbers.

Little Dick West was a homeless waif who had drifted to Texas in his early teens. He had been knocked about from pillar to post, washing dishes in greasy restaurants and working for his board as a roustabout with cow outfits. He was a ragged undersized creature and tough as pip-iron. No one knew what was responsible for his peculiar inhibitions against sleeping under a roof, though.

Little Dick West told everyone he was born on the open prairie and that was where he'll live. A house was just a place to hole up and get caught for something you hadn't done.

When Dick West was sixteen the foreman of the Three-Circle Ranch picked him up on the streets of Decatur, Texas, and took him to the ranch in Clay county where he worked until the next spring. Oscar Halsell was just starting north with his herd of cattle and horses and he hired the boy to wrangle the caballad. Hales located on the south side of the Cimarron, thirteen miles from where Guthrie now stood, and established the HXBar Ranch. Little Dick worked on the ranch for Halsell until the opening of the country in 1889. West was a reliable boy so far as his work was concerned, but wild as a March hare, some would say. His peculiar habit of rolling up in his blankets and sleeping when other punchers were seeking warm houses and cozy beds stood him in good stead on several later occasions after he had joined the outlaw band of Bill Doolin. If the officers attacked the rendezvous of the band, Little Dick was never found inside and was always able to make his getaway. On one or two occasions when he did come into conflict with the officers he jumped in the air yowling like a wild cat, with both guns spitting fire. The officers learned to know that he would never be taken alive.

There is very little known regarding Ol Yountis except that he had relatives living in Oklahoma and that he had a rather checkered career.

It was shortly after the organization of the Doolan-Dalton gang, while other members of the gang were arranging their affairs to join the outfit permanently, Bill Doolin, Bill Dalton, Bitter Creek Newcomb and Ol Yountis made a foray across the line into Ford county, Kansas, where they robbed a bank at Spearville of several thousand dollars on November 1892.

The outlaws scattered to confuse the pursuing officers. Dalton riding toward his mother's ranch near Kingfisher, while Doolin and Newcomb raced toward the gang's cave in the Creek Nation. Yentas made his way toward the home of his sister near Orlando, Oklahoma. Yentas, being poorly mounted, made slower progress in his escape and he furnished the trail that led a Kanas sheriff to Oklahoma. As Yountis neared the boundary between the Cherokee Strip and Oklahoma, his horse was just about exhausted, lacking the cold steel nerve of Doolin and the others, Yountis became frantic in his haste to put as much distance as possible between himself and Spearville. His horse and become so weak and was staggering so much that he was forced to dismount and lead the animal.

AS he stumbled along foot-sore and weary, he encountered a farmer who was riding a very good horse. The farmer stopped and in a very friendly manner offered to aid the fugitive outlaw, when Yountis demanded that he dismount and exchange horses with him. The man resisted and without further discussion Yountis shot, killing the farmer instantly.

Yountis then mounted the dead man's horse and raced towards his sister's home about fifteen miles away. It was here that he hoped to hide out until all possibility of his being connected with the Spearville robbery had blown over.

Of course, the killing of the farmer raised a great deal of indignation in the community, within a very few hours a posse of neighbors was searching for the killer. At this time Sheriff Beeson of For county, Kansas, arrived on the scene and finding the outlaws's exhausted horse, he was convinced that the murder and been committed by one of the Spearville robbers. This event furnished the trail that led the Kansas sheriff to the home of Ol Yountis' sister. Without visiting the place he convinced himself that the outlaw was hiding, not having legal authority to make an arrest i the Territory, he proceeded to Guthrie, about thirty miles south, to get the assistance of the United States Marshal's office in an attempt to capture Yountis.

Deputies Chris Madsen, Heck Thomas and Tom Houston accompanied the sheriff, the party being in charge of Madsen. They rode out of Guthrie in the evening, arriving at the farm house near Orlando just before daybreak the following morning. They placed themselves at strategic points surrounding the house, where they would be protected from observation, and waited. It was just at daybreak a man emerged from the house, a pair of six-shooters buckled about his waist and a Winchester rifle resting in the crock of one arm. The fact that he was so heavily armed and that he moved so furtively convinced the officers that this was the man they were seeking. As he moved toward the barn he walked within a few feet of a stone wall behind which Heck Thomas was concealed. Thomas raised up quickly.

Thomas helped, "Throw up your hands! You are under arrest!" The outlaw replied with a flaming Winchester blazing away at Thomas almost before the last word of the officer's command had been spoken. Thomas ducked quickly and the outlaw's first shot was followed by a rat-a-tat-tat of explosions from his rifle that almost equalled the speed of machine gun fire. The wild volley of fire aroused the household, and the outlaw's sister fan into the yard screaming hysterically. "O Ol, run! For God's sake don't shoot him!"

The stone wall saved the life of Heck Thomas his position behind the stone officers would gladly have taken their man alive but he had no intention of being so taken. Heck Thomas had changed his position behind the stone wall.

Just as the man's sister ran between them, causing Thomas to hesitate. Yountis was disconcerted by the presence of his sister and his firing was wild. Tt that moment Chris Madsen stepped from behind a corner of the barn about fifty feet away and fired the shot that felled the outlaw. The terrified sister flung herself on the body of her brother as he lay writhing and clung to him, moaning with pitiful fried. The officers approached and found that Yountis had emptied his Winchester in that brief second or two. Undoubtedly the stone wall saved the life of Heck Thomas. Yountis was too hard hit to offer further resistance, and he was disarmed.

The outlaw was heard crisply saying between clenched teeth as he tried to stifle his moans, "Too damn bad I didn't get one of you devils before you done for me!"

The outlaw laid there cursing, while the officers lifted his sister and gently led her to the house where she was placed in charge of other members of the family.

The officers transported Yountis to Orlando where he was given medical attention but in spite of all that was done for him he died that same night. Concealed in a belt about his waist was found $4,500 of the money that had been taken from the Spearville Bank, which was later identified by officers of the ban and was returned to them by order of the court.
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