In May of 1882, Doc Holliday was found to be in Pueblo, Colorado. He, along with all the other members of the "Earp Vendetta Ride," was wanted for murder in Arizona. Frank Stilwell, Florentino Cruz, and Curly Bill Brocius were all dead. And Sheriff of Cochise County, Johnny Behan, wanted Wyatt Earp, Holliday, and the other posse members brought back to Arizona. Colorado had been chosen as a safe haven, with Wyatt and Warren Earp going to Gunnison, Colorado. And Doc, staying in Pueblo to spend time with friends. It was in Pueblo that Doc encountered a stranger, by the name of Perry Mallon. Mallon warned Holliday that the brother of Frank Stilwell was in town, looking to kill him. But Stilwell's brother wasn't in town. Perry Mallon was a professional conman, who traveled the railroads trying to scam anyone he could out of their money. And Mallon had eyes on the $500 reward for the capture of Holliday. On Sunday May 14th, Doc traveled with friends Bat Masterson, Sam Osgood, and Texas George, to Denver, to attend the races there. On Monday evening, Doc was walking back to his hotel, after dinner, when Perry Mallon called his name. Mallon was there to arrest him, this time pretending to be a Los Angeles county Deputy Sheriff, with a warrant for Holliday's arrest. Arapaho county Deputy Sheriffs Charles Linton and Bernard Cutler were also there to back up Mallon. And Holliday was escorted to the county jail. Over the days that followed, Perry Mallon's lies would begin to unravel, and his true identity as a swindler and con artist became known. However, now that Holliday was under arrest, he was in danger of being extradited to Arizona, where he would certainly be killed by his enemies. With the help of Bat Masterson, who was now the city Marshal of Trinidad, Colorado, fake charges were created against Holliday so that he couldn't be extradited, as the Colorado court would have priority. On May 31st, Doc along with Bat Masterson, Sheriff Paul and Deputy Sheriff Linton, arrived in Pueblo, where he was charged with grand larceny. Of course this was just a smoke screen to protect Holliday. The charge that he stole $150 from Charles White, was completely made up to make sure Holliday had to stay in Colorado. Doc was released on bail, and the ruse worked. On June 16th Holliday arrived in Gunnison and reunited with Wyatt Earp. It was in Gunnison that a journalist interviewed Holliday on the street, the following is that interview. From the Gunnison "Daily News Democrat" June 18, 1882: "A Man of Sand. 'Doc' Holliday, of Arizona, caught on the wing by a reporter, and pumped. The famous fight with the cowboys described. How the bogus Denver Detective took 'Doc' to Jail." "There arrived in this city two days ago a gentleman who has gained a great deal of notoriety within the past few weeks, through the columns of the press. The News-Democrat’s reporter’s attention was first called to the gentleman, by a business man, who pointing across the street said; Do you see that man yonder? That’s Doc Holliday, of Arizona. The man pointed out, was dressed in a dark close fitting suit of black, and wore the latest style of round top hat. His hair was seen to be quite gray, his moustache sandy, and his eyes a piercing dark blue. A member of the sporting fraternity happening to come along the reporter was introduced, and received a strong free and friendly grip of a hand, which said very plainly, “here is a man who, once a friend, is always a friend; once an enemy, is always an enemy.” The gentleman from Arizona was quick to scent the purpose of the reporter, and half laughingly and half in seriousness said, “I’m glad to see you, Mr. Reporter, but I’m not traveling about the country in search of notoriety, and I think you newspaper fellows have already had a fair hack at me.” The reporter gently explained that he wouldn’t, for seven true fissure veins, violate the privacy of any man, and then proceeded, as reporters best know how, to apply the pump, with the following results: (Lest Mr. Holliday should recklessly attempt to annihilate the reporter upon sight for his breach of confidence, he is hereby informed that the reporter’s pockets are filled full of little two ounce cans of nitro-glycerine which will certainly explode if they are subjected to any violence.) “I shall probably be here till about the 30th, when I have some business in Pueblo which will take me away for awhile, but I shall come back again and most likely remain in Gunnison City during the summer.” “Is this your first visit here?” “It is, and I think you have a fine country here. I like it very much.” “Did you ever live in Texas?” “Yes. I lived in Dallas and Dennison for several years. I practiced dentistry there, having graduated at the Pennsylvania College of Dentistry in Philadelphia. That is how I got my title of Doc. I settled in Dallas and followed dentistry for about five years. I attended the Methodist Church regularly. I was a member of the Methodist Church there and also a prominent member of a temperance organization till I deviated from the path of rectitude.” “You are not a native of Texas?” “No. I was born in Georgia, thirty-one years ago.”
“When you left Texas where did you go?” “I came north. I lived in Denver in 1875 and 1876.” “When did you go to Arizona the last time?” “I went there three years ago.” “You are acquainted with the Earps, I believe?” “Yes, we are friends.” “You had some trouble in Arizona with the cow-boys, didn’t you?” “Well, yes,” drawled the doctor. “You might call it trouble. Bill Earp was city marshal of Tombstone. Morg Earp was a special policeman. Wyatt Earp was a deputy U.S. marshal. One day six of the cow-boys came into town and proposed to run it. The Earp's were informed of their doings, and they invited me to go over to where the cowboys were. One of the Earp's said, ‘Throw up your hands; we have come to disarm you. Instead of putting up their paws they put up their revolvers and began firing. Three of them were killed on the spot and two of the Earp's wounded. I received a slight wound on the hip, which caused me some inconvenience for a few days.” “When was this affair?” “It occurred on the twenty-sixth of last October. Morg Earp was killed about four months afterwards while playing pool in Bob Hatch’s saloon in Tombstone. Virg was waylaid one night and shot in the arm. He is now in California under medical treatment. Stilwell, the man who helped murder Morg Earp was killed in Tucson while awaiting trial for stage robbery.” “You say three cowboys were killed on the twenty-sixth of October; are there any of that gang still living?” “Two of them have since been laid out.” “Did you ever have any trouble in Fort Steele?” “No; I do not know where it is.” “You have been in Fort Griffin, haven’t you?”
“Yes; I lived there.” “Who is this Mallen that arrested you in Denver?” “He is some crank trying to gain notoriety.” “Were you acquainted with him?” “I never saw him till one night in Pueblo a few weeks ago, when he called me out of a theatre and said, ‘You saved my life in Santa Fe once, and I want to do you a favor. A man came in on the train who says he is going to kill you.’ I said to him, ‘Mr. Mallen,’ he had given me his name, ‘I don’t want to be killed, and I am much obliged to you.’ He then said, ‘If you give me away I’ll kill you.’ I went for my revolver and he went for his. He found me on my guard, and he invited me to drink. The next morning he took the train for Denver.” “Had you been long in Denver when he arrested you?” “I got there that day. I was on my way to the Wood river country. That evening I was going down to the Windsor Hotel to meet the Superintendent of the Little Pittsburg mine, a personal friend of mine, who had offered me what money I wanted to make the trip.” “Is this Mallen a man of sand?” “Well, to show you what kind of a man he is, after he had arrested me, and was taking me to jail, he sat in front of me with two revolvers pointing directly towards me, and I entirely unarmed and defenseless.” “When did Mallen leave Denver?” “About four days before I got out. He knew I was going to get out,” added Mr. Holliday with a smile. “Shall you do anything at his trial?” “No, that is not my way of doing. I avoid trouble. My father taught me when young to attend to my own business and let other people do the same. I shall let him alone if he does me.” “What do you think will be the result of his trial?” “I think he will go to the pen for a few years. I have a letter from the house of Comfort & Harlan, in Denver, which says the fraternity will spend a thousand dollars if necessary to send him there.”
