all earlier in the day, and won it
fairly, but the latter had a grudge, and was no doubt one of those
disgruntled souls who "had it in" for all the rest of the world. He got
away with the killing at the time, for a miners' court let him go. A few
days later, he began to boast about his act, seeing what fame was his
for ending so famous a life; but at Yankton they arrested him, tried him
before a real court, convicted him, and hanged him promptly.

Wild Bill's body was buried at Deadwood, and his grave, surrounded by a
neat railing and marked by a monument, long remained one of the features
of Deadwood. The monument and fence were disfigured by vandals who
sought some memento of the greatest bad man ever in all likelihood seen
upon the earth. His tally of eighty-five men seems large, but in fair
probability it is not large enough. His main encounters are known
historically. He killed a great many Indians at different times, but of
these no accurate estimate can be claimed. Nor is his list of victims
as a sharpshooter in the army legitimately to be added to his record.
Cutting out all doubtful instances, however, there remains no doubt that
he killed between twenty and thirty men in personal combat in the open,
and that never once was he tried in any court on a charge even of
manslaughter.

This record is not approached by that of any other known bad man. Many
of them are credited with twenty men, a dozen men, and so forth; but
when the records are sifted the list dwindles. It is doubted whether any
other bad man in America ever actually killed twenty men in fair
personal combat. Bill was not killed in fair fight, nor could McCall
have hurt him had Bill suspected his intent.

Hickok was about thirty-nine years old when killed, and he had averaged
a little more than two men for each year of his entire life. He was
well-known among army officers, and esteemed as a scout and a man, never
regarded as a tough in any sense. He was a man of singular personal
beauty. Of him General Custer, soon thereafter to fall a victim himself
upon the plains, said: "He was a plainsman in every sense of the word,
yet unlike any other of his class. Whether on foot or on horseback, he
was one of the most perfect types of physical manhood I ever saw. His
manner was entirely free from all bluster and bravado. He never spoke of
himself unless requested to do so. His influence among the frontiersmen
was unbounded; his word was law. Wild Bill was a