Mary Travis pulled her shawl around her shoulders tighter as she watched the rainfall outside her
Clarion office window. Sighing lightly, she ran a thin finger along the cool glass and thought back
to that day, the last day of October, when they had all left. It was just barely a week beyond their
intended month stay. Her father-in-law, the Judge had not been there to say good bye, so in a
matter of hours, each of the seven men who were hired to become the regulators of her town
came to her to tell her that they were leaving. They were headed to Tuscosa first they said, to
clear Vin Tanner's name and from there, they weren't sure. Maybe some of them would return and
maybe the others wouldn't. She remembered how sad her son Billy had been. She had been a little
disappointed herself. Her little boy never understood why his heroes were leaving. But somehow
she knew they had to move on. She had expected it. Just not so soon and she prayed that they
would be safe.
Mary moved to sit down at her desk and glanced once more out the window. The rain had
darkened the day considerably, despite it being mid morning and she was quite surprised that it
had not yet snowed since it was already early December. The days had been colder than she
remembered when she first moved to Four Corners with her late husband Stephen and yet there
was still no snow. It surprised her and she wondered if Christmas would come without the
beautiful cleansing white that she'd grown accustomed to. She looked down with trepidation at
her desk once more and fingered a letter that she had just received.
It was from a newspaper back East.
She had pondered some time about the purpose of the letter when she first received it, turning the
unopened envelope over in her hands and studying the clean writing on it. Perhaps they were
intrigued by the idea of a single woman out West on her own in the late 1870s? No. Or perhaps it
was the possibility of writing a column on Western living in a small town? No. Or how about, a
story, a 'modern take' on Manifest Destiny? No. It wasn't about any of those things.
They had written specifically in regard to seven men.
Mary placed the letter back on her desk and stood, returning once more to the window, her blue
eyes scanned the dreary street before her. After reading the letter for a third time, Mary realized
that her fears were not unfounded. She snorted softly to herself, causing the glass before her to
fog up. She idly traced a random pattern on the hazy surface. All those months ago when she had
no idea about their character, about who they were, she was now asked to inform the public in the
east of the seven brave men that came to save her town.
And that prospect terrified her.
Mary Travis found that she was not afraid of much, she could intimidate with the best of them.
She learned to use a gun years ago. She was strong emotionally and physically for a woman her
size and she was intelligent. But after realizing what she owed these men and how much they
actually meant to her, how could she? How could she possibly write an article on them that would
convey all their heroism and dedication? How would she ever make it seem just?
The last time she wrote anything about them, she found herself being reprimanded. She had
grossly underestimated all of them. She sighed heavily and looked at the gloom outside her
window.
"How indeed," she whispered to herself, as she smiled ruefully at the memory.
"In the late summer, the town of Four Corners found itself in turmoil. Life was hard and
ruthless in this desert town of the Arizona Territory; businesses were closing and shop owners
either left, died from the harsh elements or were killed. My own husband had been a victim and
was killed out of greed just a year before. The drunkard Cowboys ran reckless and the lawless
came to this town to pillage and fewer and fewer remained who believed this town would ever
become civilized. Admittedly, I lost hope too. But, it was on one of these days that things began
to change.
"Cattlemen, under the direction of Carl Fallon were passing through the town from Texas one day
and sought the help of a doctor. Mr. Fallon had been injured on the trail and had gone for some
time without treatment for his serious wounds. Four Corners did not have a doctor at the time and
still lacks one to this day. But we were fortunate enough to have the help of a man, an ex-slave
who was a stretcher-bearer for the Union Army by the name of Nathan Jackson. He had moved
here to Four Corners nearly two years ago to start a new life. And while faced with the prejudice
of some members of the town, he was all that we had.
"When Mr. Fallon and his Cowboys asked for help, Mr. Jackson willingly volunteered. Always
kind and generous with his time and assistance, it was a virtue of Mr. Jackson that drew my late
husband and myself to him. For despite the labels and history attached to the color of his skin, Mr.
Jackson's charitable actions always proved otherwise. He overlooked the small mindedness that
sometimes can befall isolated towns and strove for the greater good. He wanted to help Mr.
Fallon and I do not doubt believe he would help any man who asked for his assistance.
"But Mr. Fallon was too long gone at that point. Gangrene had settled in, infecting Mr. Fallon's
wounds to the point of seriousness that showed that there was no hope. Mr. Fallon died. And Mr.
Jackson, while doing his best was accused by Fallon's men as having been the cause. After a
drunken binge in our town Saloon, the cowboys sought to lynch Mr. Jackson.
"The Sheriff, just moments before fled Four Corners and released his prisoners, finding the town's
rough environment intolerable. It appeared that there was no one to help Mr. Jackson. It was on
that day, that two men, Chris Larabee and Vin Tanner, stepped forward to stop this injustice and
began what would eventually result in this town's progress toward civilization. They saved Mr.
Jackson from his certain death, in front of this terrified town and myself.
"I had not known of Mr. Larabee at the time and wrongfully wrote a story on him based on past
articles my husband had written about the gunslinger long ago. It was a mistake. I suppose this
would constitute a retraction of sorts. For when I wrote, 'the streets ran red with the blood of 20
men yesterday as new resident and notorious gunslinger Chris Larabee turned our quiet town into
a shooting gallery,' I erred greatly. I was protecting the town the only way I knew how. Mr.
Larabee saved Mr. Jackson's life and that should have been all that mattered. I hope that is evident
now.
"When I questioned Mr. Larabee and Mr. Tanner afterwards, understandably they were not so
forthcoming with any information that I asked of them. But what I saw gave me what I needed to
know. Not simply what I wrote about the streets becoming a 'shooting gallery' but what they
appeared to believe in. Mr. Larabee saw an injustice about to commence and sought to right it. So
for all that was written about 'the notorious gunslinger,' it occurred to me that one aspect of his
character had been left out, his sense of justice. Mr. Larabee simply had one. While most men in
this disintegrating town out west had long since given up on right and wrong, Mr. Larabee did
not.
"And this goodness was apparent in Mr. Tanner too. However what struck me most about the
former bounty and buffalo hunter was his immediate faith and loyalty. Sometime later I was
informed that Mr. Tanner and Mr. Larabee had just met minutes before Mr. Jackson's intended
lynching and was surprised at the sudden bond that formed between these two strangers. And yet
it seemed inevitable that two men who believed in righting wrongs would become fast friends. Mr.
Tanner would eventually find this loyalty re-paid to him, six-fold.
"Shortly after rescuing Mr. Jackson, Mr. Larabee recruited the help of other men to help a village
of Seminoles fight off Confederate soldiers who had gone to the village to take what little wealth
they had. For nothing more than thirty-five dollars to split amongst those who volunteered, Mr.
Larabee and his friends risked their lives. And somehow, I found that hope that I thought I had
lost once again.
"Some days afterward, the honorable Judge Orin Travis arrived in town. While arriving too late to
stop the murder of another one of our town's shopkeepers, John Potter, he was able to apprehend
the killer, Lucas James, the nephew of successful cattle rancher, Stuart James. He appointed a
Sheriff, a young man by the name of JD Dunne who moved to Four Corners from the East. And
although it was doubtful at first whether or not Sheriff Dunne was the right person for the job, in
the month that the young man was here in Four Corners, it became evident that he possessed the
skills necessary to do well. Young Sheriff Dunne learned a lot while working here in Four
Corners; the most valuable was prudence. And his self -discipline has preserved the lives of the
townspeople, his friends and his own life.
"The events that followed would ultimately culminate in a bench trail where James would
breakout with the help of his uncle's men and an attempt would be made on the Judge's life.
Thankfully they did not succeed and a ruse was created to catch the James' off guard. Judge
Travis along with the help of Mr. Larabee and a few of his acquaintances were able to apprehend
Lucas James and bring him back to town to serve trail.
"The men that were instrumental in the capture of Lucas James were to become the regulators of
this town. Along with Mr. Larabee, Mr. Tanner, Mr. Jackson and Sheriff Dunne were three other
men, Buck Wilmington, Josiah Sanchez and Ezra Standish. From varying degrees in backgrounds
these seven men, for little pay, room and board and a dollar a day decided to stay on in Four
Corners and that has made all the difference. Even now, as Christmas is upon us, this town is truly
thankful for the brief yet meaningful impression left by these men.
"It is sometimes curious to think that while these men were perceived to be the roughest and
toughest of men, there have been no others in our town that at the barest minimum exemplified
any of the virtues seen in all of them. For in Mr. Wilmington despite his reputation of being a
scoundrel and perhaps taking more interest in woman than necessary, his temperance and restraint
have served only to enhance his ability to provide valuable assistance when needed.
"Likewise with Mr. Sanchez, who was once an ex-preacher. Four Corners lacks any spiritual
direction and the old abandoned and run-down church at the end of Main Street had been a
testament to that for a year. But Mr. Sanchez's endless hope and dedication towards repairing that
church has also proved differently. It has renewed belief among the citizens in more ways than
one.
"Then there is the least likely member of the seven men. A southern gentleman, Mr. Standish is
known for doing very well at the tables in the local Saloon. Honestly, many feared that the
gambler would draw more trouble with his skills at games of chance, but he has without a doubt
renewed in the town the one thing that was perhaps forgotten long ago. Odd as it may sound,
since most con men are seen as tremulous and fearful and often self-centered, Mr. Standish has
often shown courageousness in the heat of battle. A surprise at first to many here, but his actions
have encouraged the strengthening of the town's spirit.
"Since Mr. James' trial and after the departure of Judge Travis, the town still experienced its share
of misfortune but pulled through. At one point, working women passed through briefly, trying
desperately to escape the harsh and abusive lives that they led under a miscreant by the name of
Ed Wickes. And with the help of these men, they were able to do so and rid themselves of having
to suffer under his direction anymore.
"And when I undertook the responsibility of helping aid a woman who enrolled in a work relief
program upon her release from prison, we had no idea that her past would come back so soon to
claim her. When it did and she was forced to participate in a robbery of our bank because her
young daughter was being used as guarantee, these men did not hesitate. The woman and her
child were saved and her criminal past would likely not pull her back again.
"Then there is my own son. When my husband died two years ago, my son was there. He knew
the killers and suffered from it. He was no longer the little boy I knew, he had nightmares, he
became withdrawn and scared and so he was sent to live with his grandparents. When he returned
one day to visit me, the nightmares had come back and something in this town scared him to the
point that he ran away. The murderers still lived here and had hoped to silence my Billy. But they
never succeeded because these men protected us and no amount of thanks can ever repay the debt
I owe these gentlemen.
"There was a rancher by the name of Guy Royal who bullied his way into the town by murdering
and taking land from other farmers. Mr. Royal threatened a long time resident of Four Corners,
Nettie Wells and thankfully she did not have to go far to get help. Mr. Tanner and the other men
took it upon themselves to find Mr. Royal, stop him from his plan to take all the farmer's lands
and then returned the taken goods that he had collected from each of the farmers.
"And when the town was suddenly faced with a 'manhunt' for an Indian that was believed to have
kidnaped a missionary's daughter it was the first time that something had threatened the
cohesiveness of the seven men. Reverend Mosely and his son Rafe searched extensively for Claire
Mosely and when she turned up dead, a young, Indian named Chanu, was blamed. Unrightfully,
so were his village and his people. Most of the town members in typical fashion became an angry
mob, ready to burn down the village that this young man Chanu had come from. When it was
discovered that Reverend Mosely was to blame for the death of his own child the town was
shocked by the revelation. Shocked and ashamed at the assumptions made.
"But the seven had persevered. Their bond was only strengthened when Mr. Larabee was
wrongfully imprisoned in the town of Jericho. The remaining six searched for days for Mr.
Larabee and thankfully found him and several other men who were imprisoned unjustly for money
from a crooked prison warden and Sheriff.
"Through it all, they had remained and protected and fought for Four Corners. They were even
immortalized in a Dime Store Novel by a writer by the name of Jock Steele. 'The Magnificent
Seven' they were called. And that may be. I wrote myself of the virtues I found in these men to be
admirable. But I can not ever say that I will know all there is to know about them, for at the same
time that I am praising them, that the town praises them, it would be foolish of me to assume that
they are without any demons. I know that they have demons. Mr. Larabee encountered some of
them here. Their pasts are their own and if they haunt them and drive them to become the gunmen
they are known to be, then so be it.
"This story was written at the request of the editor of the 'New York Journal' and I willingly
obliged. I wrote it not to enhance or romanticize the so-called adventurous life of the 'West.' But
to show you all, to tell you all of the heroism of men like Chris Larabee, Vin Tanner, JD Dunne,
Buck Wilmington, Nathan Jackson, Josiah Sanchez and Ezra Standish and their innate desire to
right wrongs despite their dark pasts. These men are not perfect and they never will be, but they
believe in morals. I wrote above how Mr. Tanner would eventually find his loyalty to Mr. Larabee
and these men returned six-fold and that is because when they left those two months ago, they
were headed to Tuscosa, Texas to help clear Mr. Tanner's name from a bounty. From a murder
that he was unjustly accused of committing. And what was most poignant about their departure
was that Mr. Tanner had no need to ask.
"I do not know if they will ever return to Four Corners once more, this town is much more
different than it once was and a little bit more civilized thanks to the seven. These men are
granted, hardened, raw and disparate men who more often would be associated with the Seven
Deadly Sins than any thing good. But this town knows and believes well, that each man possesses
some virtue, whether it be loyalty, hope, charity, prudence, justice, temperance or
courageousness, they have a home here."
"Jesus," breathed Marcus Mitchell the assistant editor to the 'New York Journal.' "You gonna
print it Charles?" he asked as he threw the story down on his editor's desk.
Charles Dunworth shrugged his shoulders and looked down at the story on his desk. "It's about
the West. Who wouldn't want to read it?" he asked.
"It's sappy," noted Mitchell.
"It's romantic," corrected Dunworth.
"Sounds like she's in love --"
"With which one?"
Mitchell shrugged and glanced over it again. "I don't know. Maybe all of them, in a way."
Dunworth sighed lightly as he removed his glasses to rub the bridge of his nose.
Mitchell shook his head and smiled lightly. "Also sounds like she was apologizing for the
townspeople," he added.
"Maybe she was," said Dunworth as he straightened his vest and put his glasses back on. He
looked at the younger man before him and smiled. "But the 'Magnificent Seven,'" he emphasized
the title, "sure did mean a lot to those people."
Mitchell nodded. "Guess so."
Dunworth ran a hand through his silver hair and sat down. "Least we could do is print it," he
suggested.
Mitchell smiled.
The snow crunched gently against their horses' hooves in the early morning. The main street of
Four Corners looked beautiful and clean, covered in white. The seven men rode quietly in noting
that fewer people were out and about, probably due to the cold weather. They were somewhat
surprised that the town still stood. But they knew that it was progressing and growing and more
likely than not, experienced blessed bouts of peace for once. They glanced at each other, each
noting how they had all changed somewhat, how they all looked a little older and how some even
looked a little more relaxed and calm. But what was more striking was that they were still
together. Months after they first came together, days just after Christmas, they were still a group,
a team.
Leading their horses silently to the Livery, they quickly dismounted and tended to their horses
when the youngest of the group drew their attention to something he had just picked up. It was
several issues of the 'Clarion News.'
In comfortable silence each man read silently the story of their influence and one by one they
smiled slightly, nodding in comprehension at the statements made, the apologies given and the
praises stated.
Suddenly Josiah cleared his throat, "what say we go and wish the Travis' a Happy New Year?" he
asked his companions softly.
The men nodded again and silently followed the big preacher out of the Livery.
The End
