Greathouse Station Showdown
by J. Younger
This here’s the yarn of Billy the Kid’s dust up at Greathouse Station on November 15, 1880, spun with the grit and gunfire of the Wild West…
Come November 15, 1880, Billy the Kid, ridin’ with Dave Rudabaugh, Billy Wilson, and a handful of rough riders, was cuttin’ a trail from Las Vegas to White Oaks. They reined in at Jim Greathouse’s ranch station, a weathered outpost where whiskey flowed like a desert spring. “Whiskey Jim,” a man with an eye for a deal, took a likin’ to the gang’s 16 horses, likely rustled from Alexander Grzelachowski, if the cantina talk’s to be believed and bought a few for his spread. With their pockets heavier, the boys spurred on to White Oaks, stashin’ their remainin’ ponies at Dietrichs’ Livery Stable.
Tales ‘round the poker table say the gang swaggered into a general store, grabbin’ supplies and skippin’ out without droppin’ a dime. Some reckon they paid with bad coin, just enough to square Wilson’s stable bill. But Barney Mason, a yella bellied snitch, spotted the crew and ran to Sheriff Will Hudgens. The sheriff, a hard man with a badge, rustled up a posse, includin’ J.W. Bell and James Carlyle, a blacksmith turned deputy and a pal of Hudgens. Whispers say Special Agent Wilde might’ve been skulkin’ nearby. The posse tracked the gang to Coyote Springs, where the outlaws were settin’ camp. Without so much as a howdy, they let loose a volley, droppin’ two horses. The Kid and his boys, ridin’ double, lit out for Greathouse Station, where they holed up.
“I handed it to Billy his self,” Steck later swore. “He read it to his pards, and they laughed like it was a tall tale.”
The Cook, Joe Steck, recalls; “I took the note in and delivered it to the one I knew to be Billy the Kid, “He read the paper to his compadres, who all laughed at the idea of surrendering.”
He stepped back out into the dusty road, alongside Jim Greathouse, carryin’ a message from the saloon that there’d be no surrender. One of the posse hollers for Billy Wilson to give himself up, but Wilson, stubborn as a mule, shouts back, demandin’ James Carlyle come inside for a parley. Sheriff Hudgens, nods and lets Carlyle head in to jaw with the outlaws. Greathouse stays put outside, eye-in’ the posse.
When Carlyle crosses the threshold, it’s just shy of midday. The boys frisk him for iron and sit him down at a rickety table. Inside, the gang’s schemin’ to hunker down till nightfall, plannin’ to bust out under cover of darkness.
Steck recalls the Kid, with a glint in his eye, pushin’ a bottle of rotgut whiskey on Carlyle, gettin’ him so liquored up that just past noon, things start to blur.
“He was “under the influence of liquor and insisting on going out.”
“I stopped and turned, when, crash, a man came through a window, bang, bang, the man’s dying yell, and poor Carlyle tumbled to the ground with three bullets in him,” Joe Steck recalled.
Come nightfall, Billy and his crew saddled up and rode out slick as you please, not a scratch on ‘em, while the posse, likely the ones who accidentally sent Carlyle to his maker, scattered like coyotes in a storm. They slunk back at dawn, buried Carlyle in the cold dirt, and torched Greathouse’s place to ashes.
Newspapers
Las Vegas Morning Gazette December 11, 1880
Las Vegas Morning Gazette December 24, 1880
Las Vegas Morning Gazette May 19, 1881
Gallery
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