Colorado Bill and the Hanging Judge

William Elliott, also known as "Colorado Bill;"
He didn't grow up a real man, just one who knew how to kill.
Four dead in four states
While Justice just waits,
And Bill stayed in the Choctaw Nation for a spell.

Then Bill killed David Brown and his soul became darker.
But the law ran him down and sent him off to Judge Parker.
Fort Smith's "Hanging Judge,"
On the law he wouldn't budge,
So Bill was hung and buried with a two-bit marker.

Richard "Dick" Smith: outlaw

When Tom Pringle took a stroll Dick Smith gunned him down
In the Choctaw Nation, near Wheelock he was found
They say that Smith tried
The dirty deed to hide
But they found his boot print on the bloody muddy ground

Smith removed the tacks from the soles of his shoes
Trying to get away with murder by making new clues
But the holes left behind
Still matched up real fine
So they hung him at Fort Smith while singing the blues

John Stephens: ax murderer

John Stephens left the Delaware reservation
He sought witnesses with the intent of retaliation
Annie Kerr and Dr. Pyle
Had testified at his trial
So he upped his larceny to mutilation

Into the first house Stephens did creep
He found Kerr and her son sound asleep
With an ax he did culp
Leaving both a bloody pulp
Forgetting "what you sow you shall reap."

He went on to the home of Dr. Pyle
They say what he did there took awhile
He caved in two heads
Then beat their child until dead
And when he left they say he did smile

Judge Isaac Parker handled the case
That publicized John Stephens disgrace
The testimony revived
Cause Dr. Pyle's wife survived
And a noose was quickly fastened in place

Gus Bogles: an onery cuss

Outlaws aren't outlaws

fer' havin' much smarts,

most are meaner than polecats

or dumber than dirt.

If they had ta' make a livin'

by honest means,

most law-breakers

would be in a world of hurt.

One such rogue named Bogles,

his first name Gus,

had a sole claim ta' fame

of bein' an onery cuss.

On June twenty-seventh,

in eighteen-eighty an' seven,

Gus killed a gent named J.D.

A railroad official

just doin' his job,

tellin' Gus he couldn't ride fer' free.

Gus wrapped a strap

around J.D.'s neck,

an' pistol-whipped the life out of him.

He stripped him near bare

of shoes, trousers, an' coat,

an' even his hat with wide brim.

They say he got on that train

without ticket ta' ride,

an' never a moments hesitation.

Leavin' behind

the corpse of J.D.

beside the rail-house station.

The law was sent forth

ta' follow the course

an' put ol' Gus in custody.

They nabbed him right quick,

an' jailed him at Fort Smith,

where Judge Isaac Parker said,

"What is yer' plea?"

They say in his cell

like a demon he'd yell:

he agitated all an' never cared.

But before the hanging judge

he plead "innocent" cuz'

down deep he really was scared.

Before a conviction

he never would say,

"I done what I done

an' would do it again."

Nor would he say,

"I done it...

an' that's a fact,

but now I'm sorry fer' my sin."

Cuz' Gus was unrepentant

throughout the ordeal,

even after he chose ta' confess.

He cared not a wit

fer' the good life he took,

just fer' his own

that he made such a mess.

Judge Parker could see

the fear in ol' Gus,

now that the tables did turn.

He chose ta' not man-up,

the choice of a coward:

now guilty an' his stomach did churn.

On July the sixth,

Gus would see his last sun:

he'd dangle at the end of a rope.

With no one ta' blame

fer' his death but himself:

he earned Hell's dunce cap as a dope.



Malachi Allen: lost temper, lost arm, lost life

Have ya' heard of Malachi Allen?

He was just another foolish felon

who thought pure cussedness would serve him well.

He swore his life was goin' ta' Hades,

as a gunman in the eighteen-eighties,

but if it was... his choices paid the bill.

He quarreled with Cy an' Shadrach

over a saddle an' tack,

an' shot them both dead in the Chickasaw Nation.

It was the fifteenth of July

when he done in Shadrach an' Cy,

proven he cared not a wit fer' human relations.

A posse was assembled,

of his peers it did resemble,

an' Deputy Marshall McAlester led the way.

They cornered the desperado,

but peacefully he would not go,

so they fought a vicious gun battle that day.

Malachi came ta' harm

with a bullet in his arm,

he tried ta' fight but could not pull the trigger.

So he was apprehended,

his futile flight up-ended,

the posse saw the irony an' snickered.

To Fort Smith they all came,

where Isaac Parker gained fame,

as the judge who loved ta' hang 'um high.

Malachi's arm they did amputate,

another casualty of his hate,

but it did not stop his appointed day ta' die.

On the gallows he heard townfolk jest,

as they watched in their Sunday best,

cuz' a hangin' party was a big event.

Now too late ta' be undone,

the cruel acts he did fer' fun,

one final drop an' he would be Hell bent.