Up to this time no one had intended to shoot, and Franklin was told so. “Damn you, if you don’t shoot, I will,” he exclaimed again. “I will fight your whole gang, if you will give me a fair show. I won’t be arrested, I won’t go; I’ll die first—but I’ll die hard. One or two of you will go with me if I go. Ed. Franklin does not sell out for a song.” At this he made a lunge for a cocked revolver which Cook had laid on a table near by. But the keen-eyed officers were too quick for him. They had detected the purpose of the move and were ready. They did not propose to stand up to allow another professional murderer and desperado to shoot at them. They were not betting blood on even terms with outlaws. Cook caught his pistol with his left hand, and even while Franklin was fighting his way to it like a mad man, sent a ball whizzing through his very heart. Smith’s firing followed so soon as to cause what seemed little different from one report. With hardly a groan Franklin tumbled over on the blood-stained bed, a dead and harmless man. He had sowed the wild oats of a reckless and useless life, and he had reaped the full harvest.
So ended the last of the tragedies of Golden’s night of horrors, November 22, 1868.
Of course the entire town had been aroused by this time. It was getting well along in the night, yet no one seemed to have retired. On the contrary, everybody appeared to be upon the streets. Hardly any one understood the cause of the trouble or the crimes that had been committed. There were reports that a dozen men had been killed, and that a mob had taken possession of the town. The people flew here and there like mad. It was, indeed, a wild Sabbath night for Golden—ordinarily then, as now, a very quiet and orderly town.
Coroner’s investigations of both killings, those of Miles Hill and Ed. Franklin, were ordered, and inquests were held. It was found that a ball had struck Hill in the left arm, entering his left side and passing through his abdomen, while two bullets had entered Franklin’s breast, hardly an inch apart, and both passing through the heart. In the case of Hill, local prejudice was allowed to control the deliberations of the coroner’s jury, the members of which were not in possession of all the facts in the case, and in the verdict the officers—who, the reader will bear in mind, were only returning the fire of Duggan—were slightly censured for “carelessness in the discharge of their duty.” The verdict was signed by George B. Allen, W. M. B. Sarell, J. M. Johnson, Jr., Arthur C. Harris, P. B. Cheney and J. Pipe, either one of whom would doubtless, under the same circumstances, have acted just as the officers did—if they had not depended upon their heels instead of their pistols for protection.
The verdict in the case of Franklin stood as follows:
Territory of Colorado, County of Jefferson, ss:
An inquest, holden in Golden City, Jefferson county, Colorado territory, on the 22d day of November, A. D. 1868, before J. B. Cass, a justice of the peace, upon the dead body of Ed. Franklin, alias Charles Myers, lying at the Overland house, in Golden City, Colorado territory, dead, by the jurors whose names are hereto subscribed. The said jurors, upon their oaths, do say that the said Ed. Franklin, alias Charles Myers, came to his death by the shots of pistols in the hands of D. J. Cook and Wm. F. Smith, officers, who were trying to arrest him; and that the deceased was shot because he refused to be arrested, and the officers shot him in the discharge of their duty, on the evening of the 22d of November, 1868.
D. C. CRAWFORD.
H. M. HOWELL.
JAMES GOTT.
JOSEPH CASTO.
H. R. KING.
WM. MARTIN.
Thus ended this series of tragedies, so far as Golden was involved. The officers, before returning to Denver, scoured the town of Golden and the surrounding country in search of Duggan, but failed to find him. Indeed, they soon became convinced that he had lost no time in leaving the place, and as there were then few residences either in the mountains or on the plains, there was little hope of overtaking him if pursuit should be decided upon. Consequently Gen. Cook decided to return to Denver with his men, and to send out information in all directions to his assistants of the detective association concerning the escape of the desperado, paying $50 to the landlord of the Overland house before leaving for damages done to the bed in which Franklin lay. The man who shared Franklin’s bed was found to be a deserter from the army and was turned over to the military authorities.