The Bozeman weekly chronicle. (Bozeman, Mont.) 1883-1889, 1883-11-14
A kEMINISCENSE.
A Sketch of Murder and the fOtE Of
COulsOn.

A Sketch ola Murder and the fOwE Of
| COulsOn.
1t was midnight of March 3lst, 1882
| The small town of Coulson was alive with
gamblers, drunken men and fallen
women. From huge tent, situated on
| the only street of the town, issued
blaze of light, the harmonious strains OF
music, the tread of the heavy dancers,
the voices of the drunken and disorderly
boys, and the cracked sounding
laughter of the bedizzened girls.
At the other end of the street Was
large saloon, owned and run by one Jack
Skillon. In this building was congrega-
ted number of men, some participating
in, and some watching, the games of
chance. Among the players at one table
sat a young man, aged about nineteen,
named Frank Redman. Frand was en-
ployed as waiter in Cross & Browns
restaurant, where he had made himself
very popular with the rough guests who
ate from uncovered tables and slept upon
their blankets around the red-hot stove.
Coulson consisted in January, of the
same year, Of store and hotel, but the
location of the Northern Pacific en-
gineeri' headquarters and the evident
intention of the railroad company to
build town close by drew large num-
Der of people from Miles City and other
points, who came in wagons, horseback
and on foot. The town soon grew to be
of some importance. 1t had newspaper,
three large general stores, one hardware
store, two barber shops, one harness
shop, and large number Of saloons in
tents and more substantial buildings.
The nearest doctor was at Fort Custer
and hardly week passed but that some
one was taken to the post, sixty miles,
or the surgeon sent for. Almost from
the towns inception, there had been
officers of the law, but from some reason
they proved powerless to lessen the num-
Der of crimes committed. But to return
to our story.
1t was midnight, as we said before.
Young Frank Redman, born and reared
in Brazil, Indiana, sat at the gambling
table playing away his hard-eafned
wages. Playing with him was man Who
bore the name of 'Dutch Charley" who
had lately come from the Wood River
country, almost penniless, but bringing
with him hard name. He had killed a
man in Butte, and was rather proud of
it. On the night in question Charley"
had had unusually poor luck and from
drink and other causes, was in vicious
mood. Losing all his money, he quietly
arose, went to the door and disappeared.
Soon after, the game was finished and
the players arose and started for their
sleeping places. When few feet from
the door Frank was met by Charley"
who held in his hand large revolver.
Advancing toward Frank he said:
II am the bully of this town, and l
don't propose to let any lineup gambler
get the best of me-" whereupon he hit
Frank in the face, stepping back few
PAGES and shot. The ball, entering
Franks neck, passed downward through
his heart. The boy uttered loud cry
and fell down dead. The murderer slow
ly backed toward the door, as he did SO
pulling another revolver, he remarked:
Il will shoot the first man who lays
hold of me-"
Upon reaching the door he ran down
tlo street and has not since been seen.
The next day a posse of twelve men,
under deputy sheriff Preston, who was
few weeks after killed himself, secured
the adjoining country unsuccessfully. 1t
is not altogether improbable that Dutch
Charley" is in Montana, and may at some
time be brought to justice by his own
words or acts. Soon after the mattor was
apparently forgotten, although reward
was offered by the boys employers. No
effort was made by the officers Of the
law to apprehend the desperate, nor was
any private citizen willing to risk his
life for the reward, or out of friendship,
and SO the matter has been forgotten,
except by those who on April I'd, attend
ed, through snow and rain, the ceremo-
MES over his body, on bleak, bare hill,
overlooking the ,Clarke's Fork bottom,
while an itinerant lawyer slowly and
touchingly consigned the body to its last
resting place.
There were several murders in the
short-lived town of Coulson, during its
thriving existence, but none as cruel and
touching as this.