The Four Jacks and their “wild card,” Hogue, zealously arrested cowboys and gamblers. Hogue nabbed Ben Thompson’s younger brother, Billy, who had just arrived with a trail herd from Texas. The charges, not all trumped up in Billy’s case, since he was a boozer and a brawler, were as varied as a grocery list—carrying deadly weapons, disorderly conduct, drunkenness, disturbing the peace and unlawful assault on the “deputy marshal” (policeman Hogue). The lawman escorted the young Thompson to police court, where he pled guilty and paid a $25 fine, including court costs.

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The surprising lack of protest from Ben Thompson, spokesman for the Texans and a known gunman, emboldened the Four Jacks, who accelerated their arrests-for-cash program. One of them shot an accused lawbreaker in the thigh when the man supposedly resisted arrest. Then, on June 30, 1873, Happy Jack rearrested Billy Thompson, who was charged with “feloniously” carrying a revolver; “unlawfully” disturbing the peace; and “unlawfully” assaulting Morco. One wonders who wrote up the charges, since the unlettered Happy Jack could scarcely scrawl his own name.

Five witnesses, including Ben Thompson’s friend Sheriff Chauncey B. (“Cap”) Whitney, came forward under subpoenas by the p rose cution. Judge Vincent B. Osborne again fined Billy $10 and court costs of $15. Billy once more pleaded guilty, paid the fine and was freed. And Happy Jack collected another “two-fifty.”

Ben Thompson had been extraordinarily patient up to that point, but he now had had a bellyful of the officers’ extortion. He bluntly told Whitney that the town would have to curb the corrupt police, if it really wanted law and order. But the county sheriff had no authority over city police, except Hogue, who wore two hats as policeman and deputy.

A new mayor, Jim Miller, backed the get-tough tactics with “transients”—cowboys and gamblers. Moderates on the council discharged Morco, but a citizen’s petition led to his reappointment. From July 24 to mid-August 1873, 27 arrests were made—three times the number for the same period in 1872. Judge Osborne passed judgment on more than 60 cases in ‘73.

When the council cut loose another officer in August, it deferred to Brocky Jack and let go of DeLong, the least obnoxious of the “four of a kind.” Ellsworth’s Chronicle preached against overprovocative display of six-shooters by officers, but the editorial had no effect, particularly not on Morco, since he could not read a newspaper or anything else.

Finally, on Friday, August 15, 1873, all hell broke loose in Ellsworth. Thanks to loans from Texan gamblers Cad Pierce, Neil Cain, John Good and George Peshaur, Ben Thompson had set up a gambling den in Joe Brennan’s saloon. Several “serial” card games were going on, but poker players cashed in their chips that day and drifted over to a high-stakes monte game. Cain was dealing, and Pierce was getting. Ben Thompson was among the onlookers. His hard-swigging brother, Billy, was not kibitzing but was bellied up to the bar, as usual.

Cain balked at Pierce’s desire to play for even higher stakes and asked Ben to get somebody to take the over-bets. Ben asked a half-drunk gambler from Texas, John Sterling, to do the trick. Sterling had the reputation of being lucky. He agreed, promising to split his winnings with Ben, 50-50. Sterling won more than $1,000 but abruptly got up and left the saloon. Brennan asked Thompson if he was going to let a tinhorn gambler cheat him like that. Ben said he thought that Sterling would pay up; he would look him up in the afternoon.

Around mid-afternoon, Thompson found Sterling in Nick Lentz’s bar. With him was lawman Morco. When Ben asked for his share of the winnings, Sterling, angry as well as drunk—and flushed with Dutch courage by the presence of an armed Happy Jack—slapped him in the face. The insulted Thompson lunged at Sterling, but Morco held him off at pistol point. Thompson contented himself with telling Morco exactly what he thought of him and then suggesting he get “that God damned drunk out of the way.”

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