Dave Mather
1851 - 1885-1887(?)
There is nothing which breeds mystery faster than a gunfighter of few
words. David Allen Mather was just such a man and came to be known as
"Mysterious Dave". He could often be seen about the saloons of
Denver, always properly belted up with twin Colts bulging under his
coat, stopping here and there to gaze at the players at a faro table,
watching others playing blackjack, and never seen engaged in gambling
himself.
Dave was a smallish man with square but frail shoulder,
dark mustache. He could often be seen sunning himself along the
boardwalk in front of the Sheriff's office. Dave had a badge
pinned to his chest, for he was indeed a deputy in Dodge City.
Dave had come from a family of seafaring lawmen up in
Massachusetts and his ancestors had been rugged sailormen of the Seven
Seas. So Dave was made of whipcord stuff. Many claimed he
was a descendant of Cotton Mather.
The
real gunslingers of Dodge watched Dave out of the tail of their eye,
because around him was a halo of mystery which they could not
plumb. One night Marshal Tom Carson walked into a whale of a lot
of trouble with a gang of desperadoes known as the Henry bunch of
gunslingers and needed help. Dave was there with him when the
marshal was shot both in the legs and arms and lay crippled on the
dance floor. He died from loss of blood shortly afterwards, but
before he expired Dave assured him he would kill every last one of the
Henry outfit. He got to this feet and roared after them down the
flimsy staircase, out of the dance hall into the street where, with a
gun in each hand, he cut down seven men and left them lying dead from
the board walk on up to the Long Branch. Nobody had ever seen
such a gun battle. It was difficult to believe that this quiet
little man could have done such damage. Dave said nothing more
about it, and a few days later resumed his seat in front o f the
sheriff's office.
Dave had become known as a killer lawman, when a preacher came to
town and pitched his tent and was holding a sawdust revival. Dave
drifted into the meeting one night, a little liquored up and sat down
to listen. The skypilot directed his religion at Dave, saying he
would gladly die to save this man who had sent seven men to Hell.
Dave resented the remark, rose to his feet with a gun in either
hand. The t4ent became vacant in a few seconds as people
scattered, and one blast from Dave's gun sent the parson under the
canvas out into the night. The next morning the tent had been
struck and a few kids were searching the sawdust circle looking for
lost coins.
Dave
decided to open a saloon but Marshal T. C. Nixon of Dodge was playing a
high-handed game of politics and tried to stop him. Mather and
Nixon quarreled in the street, in which Mather got shot or grazed in
the shoulder. He said nothing but told the marshal he'd better
get out of Dodge. That night they met again on the street and a
gunfight ensued in which Dave outdrew him and killed him on the
spot. As he had witnesses, it was merely a case of self-defense.
He left Dodge in the late 1880's and journeyed horseback to San
Francisco thence on up by boat into Canada and enlisted in the Royal
Canadian Mounted Police, proving his prowess by showing what he could
do with a pair of six guns and a horse. Dave was at heart an
Englishman anyhow. He was still seen in the royal blue and red as
late as 1920. Although unsung, Dave Mather was one of our great
gunfighters of the Old West.
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OK Corral | Artist - Lea Franklin McCarty