After this astonishing performance, no one on the Yankee Hill town council doubted Willie Kennard's ability to fully execute the duties of the office of marshal; however, they wanted to know something about the man before taking him on permanently. Kennard obligingly filled them in on his background.

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During the Civil War he had been a corporal in the 7th Illinois Rifles, a company made up entirely of black volunteers. Having a natural talent for using sidearms, he was made an instructor at the Montrose Training Camp. After the war, having found scant opportunities for civilian employment, Kennard enlisted in a black unit, the 9th Cavalry. He served five years at Fort Bliss, Texas, and then relocated with his unit to Fort Davis in Arizona Territory. He saw action against the Warm Springs Apache and Mescalero Apache. When his enlistment ran out, Kennard drifted about for a few months before responding to the newspaper ad in the summer of 1874 and becoming the marshal of Yankee Hill, Colorado Territory, at the tidy salary of $100 per month.

The town of Yankee Hill had a short but fascinating history. In 1858, pay dirt was struck in Colorado Territory in the area around Pikes Peak. As word spread, another California-style gold rush began. By 1866, hundreds of small mining camps had sprouted. Among them was Yankee Hill, situated about 25 miles west of Denver. Benefitting from its location on the toll road (the so-called Gold Trail) between Central City and Georgetown, Yankee Hill flourished. By 1874 the town had several hundred permanent residents and a few hundred more transient prospectors. Yankee Hill's progress and prosperity brought with it the expected influx of human predators, including men like Barney Casewit who were fast with a gun and totally bereft of conscience. Relying on locals to enforce the laws and maintain order was not good enough anymore. And so it was that Yankee Hill advertised for a professional town tamer.

Willie Kennard's auspicious debut as town marshal earned him instant respect from the citizens of Yankee Hill, who were grateful to be free of Casewit's cruel tyranny. It was inevitable, though, that there would be those who could not accept the concept of a black man as town marshal. Reese Durham, local manager of the Butterfield Stage Station, became obsessed with the desire to run the lawman out of town. On the afternoon of September 2, 1874, emboldened by several glasses of whiskey, Durham challenged Kennard to a gunfight but only earned himself an early trip to the local cemetery.

In the spring of 1875, the town was being plagued by a gang of outlaws preying on the freight wagons and passenger stages that traveled the Gold Trail. The gang was an eight-man outfit led by Billy McGeorge, a 40-year-old fugitive from the Colorado Territorial Prison at Canon City. The town council asked Marshal Kennard to go out and round them up.

Not wanting to chase McGeorge up and down the trails and over half the territory, the marshal decided to set a trap. He had posters nailed to trees, offering a $50 reward for McGeorge's capture dead or alive. McGeorge flew into a fit of rage when he saw one of the posters. There wasn't another marshal in the territory offering less than $300. It was an insult that could not go unchallenged. On Monday, June 28, 1875, McGeorge and his gang rode into Yankee Hill to secure vengeance.

Alerted to their arrival, Kennard met them at the end of Front Street with a double-barreled shotgun loaded with buckshot. He ordered McGeorge and his men to toss their rifles to the ground. One of the outlaws, Cash Downing, tested the black marshal's skill with a gun and paid for it with his life. The shot also killed the outlaw behind Downing and shattered the glass of the Evans Hardware Store. McGeorge then ordered his men to drop their guns. As Kennard led the gang off to the hoosegow, McGeorge vowed that someday he would get even. However, that day never came for McGeorge. Lawyer Bert Corgan, again acting as judge, had a slew of charges to choose from on which to try McGeorge. The murders of a family of immigrants from Ohio named Stalcup were suitable for the purpose. Found guilty, Billy McGeorge was hanged from the same pine on which Barney Casewit had met his fate just one year earlier.

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