Outlaw and Unlucky Lover: James Jenkins

James Jenkins was an outlaw,
A profession he adored.
It's said that he killed ten red men,
With eight white men also scored.

Some died in Missouri,
And some down Texas way,
Others were killed in Iowa
And Cal-i-for-ni-a.

In the latter state,
Over in Napa City,
Jenkins gave his black heart
To a gal he thought was pretty.

The couple came together,
Even though she was a Misses.
He knew he had to have her;
Her heart is as dark as his is.

The unsuspecting hubby,
The poor slob, Patrick O'Brien,
Was befriended by Jenkins,
But was clueless 'bout his lyin'.

Then Jenkins let the Misses
Put him on the spot.
He would be the killer
In her murder plot.

She wanted her hubby gone.
In reality she said,
"Pull your pistol, Lover,
And shoot that bastard dead."

So Jenkins drank his courage
And did the dirty deed.
But he was caught and hanged,
While Mrs. O'Brien was freed.

John X Beidler: voracious vigilante

Some say that German-born Beidler, John X,

would rather have a good fight than bad sex,

an' I suppose many men might say the same.

But his vigilante ways

in the wild west days

are the reason you an' I might know his name.

When the law was non-existent

Beidler was insistent,

an' never feared an outlaw face-ta'-face.

He'd take 'um one-by-one,

or with a group he'd share the fun,

an' never did he end up in disgrace.

He first plied this trade in Kansas

when cowboys over-stepped their chances:

they were boozin', breakin', an' shootin' up the town.

Their actions stuck in Beidler's craw,

who used a small Howitzer ta' draw,

an' turned every cowpoke smile into a frown.

It was loaded with printers type,

an' caused some media hype,

as he single-handedly sent them on the run.

The cowboys had fits,

fer' weeks they plucked out bits,

fer' gettin' out of hand with their fun.

From then on the high-brow ta' shanty

would be touched by the vigilante,

if any of them did what they shouldn't do.

To Montana he took his trade,

without a mask an' never afraid:

he dared outlaw's kin to come after him too.

But he never had no takers

from kith an' kin of law-breakers:

they all had heard tell of his reputation.

Beidler was squat an' he was mean,

with a walrus mustache an' a loyal team,

an' he kept his rifle closer than any female relation.

Some folks even said

he took the rifle ta' bed,

an' he knew how ta' shoot it...

of that there's no denyin'.

Beidler was a distractor

fer' the lesser criminal factor,

but desperadoes kept pushin'...

an' ended up dyin'.

When badmen stole hope,

an' good folks couldn't cope,

Beidler an' his crew would answer the call.

They never would mope,

they'd bring their own rope,

an' dish out some vigilante law.

But when a police force was hired

Beidler an' his crew retired,

they were happy ta' let progress have its day.

Yet they had done much

fer' towns in the clutch

 of badmen goin' further astray.

Sweet memory divine

of towin' the line,

an' never steppin' over the bounds.

Many criminals were pinched,

about half of them lynched:

sent down ta' be chased by hellhounds.