Willie Kennard wasn’t sure what to expect when he walked into the saloon across the street. He knew just two things: One, there was a wanted murderer inside. And, two, it was his job to arrest the man. The year was 1874. Kennard had just ridden into Yankee Hill, Colorado—a small mining outpost near modern-day Idaho Springs—to inquire about a job posting for town marshall. But as soon as he did, the men hiring for the role burst out laughing. Kennard may have been a retired soldier, an expert arms…
