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SHOWMAN
were making a getaway. Morgan, the third Earp brother had been killed, but Wyatt and Virgil boarded our train in the nick of time. We'd heard shooting, and these two uncommunicative new passengers had got on in something of a hurry, but shots and quick departures were nothing out of the way in Tombstone, so none of us paid much attention.
The authorities in Tombstone telegraphed ahead to Tucson to meet our train and lay the Earps by the heels. As we neared the Tucson station, we could see that the premises were black with people, but we weren't sure what the crowd was for until we saw the Earps start doing things about their situation. Wyatt went up ahead, gun in hand, climbed into the tender and ordered the engineer to go right on— Tucson was off the schedule by order of the Earp brothers. Virgil hung out of a car-door, also gun in hand, and bombarded the platform as we went by to make sure that nobody tried to get aboard to make an arrest. And they wouldn't let the train stop till it had crossed the California line. That way I got a good look at Virgil Earp, and a good thing I did, too.
When Corbett and I hit San Bernardino years later, the whole town started insisting we should meet a local negro boxer who had once collected $100 from Sullivan for lasting four rounds— one of the several instances that show John L. didn't always draw the color-line. That didn't suit our book at all. We were near the end of our tour, everything had gone fine, and there was
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