John T Pope

Picture credits: Doris Burton Vernal Utah

 

SHERIFF JOHN T. POPE -- EARLY UTAH PEACE OFFICER

By: Kerry Ross Boren

A man is the product of his environment; that which molds him in his youth, hardens him into a permanent cast in later life, and makes him what he is. So it was with one of Utah's early peace officers whom fame has evaded, but whose accomplishments live on after him - as it is with many men who quietly enforce the law.

John Theodore Pope was born at Farmington, Utah, on March 2, 1860, one of eleven children born to Robert and Sarah Pope. The family later moved to Smithfield, Cache County, in northern Utah, where young John witnessed such extreme violence in his formative years that it prepared him for later life when he often stood alone against desperate and lawless men.

When the Civil War broke out in 1861, the Federal Government sent volunteer units from California under the leadership of Colonel Patrick E. Connor. At that time, the northern valleys were occupied by the Northern Shoshones, consisting of ten bands, whose homeland had been taken over by Mormon settlers who had plowed the grasslands and killed off the wild game. When the Shoshones went to war against the settlers, Colonel Connor marched north to quell the uprising with a troop of cavalry.

Young John Pope's first encounter with violence occurred when he and another small boy witnessed the gruesome murder of a close neighbor by members of the renegade Bear Hunter tribe. They watched as the man was shot full of arrows, then scalped, and these hideous sights left an indelible impression upon his young mind.

Pope was also nearby when Colonel Connor and his men joined battle with the Bear Hunter tribe, resulting in the Bear River Massacre, wherein more than 200 Shoshone men, women, and children were slaughtered, near Franklin on the Utah-Idaho border. Fourteen of Connor's soldiers also lost their lives in the battle. Eight others later died of their mortal wounds inflicted in the battle. When the troops started back to Fort Douglas, they placed the bodies of the dead soldiers in a large blue box removed from a wagon bed and mounted on a bob-sleigh. When they passed through Smithfield, John approached the sentry guarding the bodies and timidly asked if he could see the dead soldiers. The guard held the inquisitive little boy up and pulled back the tarpaulin, exposing the dead men's faces. Once again the boy was learning the hard lesson of life and death from first-hand experience.

But the Bear River troubles were only the beginning of Pope's education. In 1869 the family moved to Fish Haven, Idaho, on the western shore of Bear Lake, and shortly thereafter young John went fishing with a neighbor and his son at the lake. As they rode along in a wagon on the south side of the lake, they observed Ute and Shoshone Indian camps opposite each other near the shore. The two tribes were traditional enemies.

Suddenly, a Shoshone sped by them on horseback, clad only in a breech-cloth, with the head of a Ute Indian on a stick over his shoulder, blood streaming from the head down the Shoshone's naked back. The Shoshone warrior was whooping and yelling like a demon toward his own camp, and, realizing they were between two camps about to go to battle, the fishermen whipped their team and made a wild dash for safety,

just minutes before the two warring tribes clashed.

As a teenager, Pope's curiosity caused him to go with a boyhood friend, Zebulon "Zeb" Edwards, to the place where a band of renegade Indians were performing a scalp-dance ceremony. Creeping through the brush under cover of darkness, they took a position near the perimeter of the camp, and watched the gruesome performance, as Indians danced up to a pole and placed scalps on it; one Indian danced up with a scalp of long golden ringlets, and at that point Pope and Edwards looked at each other, envisioned their own scalps decorating the pole, and hastily retreated from the are.

Pope's first experience with the law also concerned an Indian. In 1879, when he was nineteen, Pope had been sleeping in the barn loft at his uncle's ranch in order to keep an eye on the horses. During the night, a horse thief stole a colt which had been picketed in a pasture near the house, and John's uncle roused him from sleep to tell him about it. Pope went out in the moonlight and located a hole cut in the fence, and he slipped through it cautiously, gun in hand. He had just spotted the colt's silhouette in the moonlight when there was a flash, and a bullet whined just past his head. Pope fired at the gun-flash, then ran after the frightened colt which bolted toward the barn. The following morning his uncle woke him at daybreak saying: "John, I don't think that fellow will be stealing any more horses." John T. Pope had killed his first horse thief.

The Sheriff of Stockton, Utah came out to investigate the shooting, immediately cleared Pope of any crime, and deputized him on the spot to help him escort another handcuffed Indian horse thief to jail. When they reached the hotel in town, the Sheriff instructed the nineteen year-old deputy to watch the prisoner while he went to make some arrangements.

Pope, with gun in hand, was intent on guarding his prisoner, and so did not see the two men who slipped up behind him, pinning his arms, and taking his gun away. He was thrown to the ground and held, and when he was at last released and got to his feet, he saw his prisoner dangling from a rope suspended from a rail of the hotel porch.

The Sheriff came running up at that moment, cursing at the top of his lungs, heaping the blame upon Pope for the lynching, making such a scene of these recriminations, that Pope then realized that he had been set up - the Sheriff had wanted his prisoner lynched, and Pope was the scapegoat. He never forgot the lesson, often remarking in later life that it left him heartsick that an officer of the law would dupe an innocent youngster into such a vile predicament.

The year 1879 had been an eventful one in Pope's life. The following year he married Charlotte Ann Stock, and during the next four years he worked at various occupations in Utah and Idaho. But he was restless, and when he received a letter from his old friend, Zeb Edwards, lauding the Uintah Mountain Country, where Edwards was a hunter, Pope packed up his family and moved, settling at Vernal, Utah, in 1884.

At the time of John T. Pope's arrival in the Uintah Basin, Sterling Driggs Colton was Sheriff of Uintah County, and Pope's first duty as a deputy was to assist Sheriff Colton in a strange kidnapping case. The Sheriffs niece, Ella Rophena Colton, had fallen in love with a dashing older man by the name of Cleophas J. Dowd, who had rescued her when her horse and run away with her. However, Dowd lived in Brown's Park,

a notorious outlaw refuge north of Vernal, and Ella's father, Charles Colton, Mormon bishop at Vernal, forbade his daughter to have anything to do with the man, and warned Dowd to stay away from her.

Dowd was not a man to take "no" for an answer. While Ella was celebrating her eighteenth birthday at a party held in her uncle's home, Dowd rode boldly up to the front door and knocked. The Sheriff himself opened the door and recognizing his niece's suitor, ordered him off the property. Dowd boldly announced he would not leave without his intended wife. Sheriff Colton, knowing Dowd's reputation as a gunman, immediately grabbed his right arm and held it, while reaching for his own gun. But at that moment, Colton felt something jab him in the right side; Dowd, who was ambidextrous, had produced a gun from his left coat pocket. Disarmed, Sheriff Colton was compelled to give up his young niece, who willingly rode away with her knight-errant.

Sheriff Colton immediately deputized a posse, among whom was John T. Pope, then only about 25 years old. They rode hard towards Brown's Park, Dowd's destination, but when they reached the James Warren ranch on Diamond Mountain, on the southern rim of the Park, there was a message waiting for them. Dowd was already "down in" the Park, and the only southern access -Crouse Canyon - had been blocked at its narrowest point by rocks and timber, behind which waited the outlaw Matt Warner and ten or fifteen armed men. Dowd's note indicated that even if the posse could get through the barricade, by the time they did so, the marriage would be consummated, and men would die for no good cause. Sheriff Colton wisely turned his posse around and returned to Vernal, and Pope had his first lesson on the dangers of a lawman foolhardy enough to enter Brown's Park.

In the spring of 1890 John T. Pope was standing on the street at Vernal, talking with the town constable, when a shot rang out in the nearby Blythe and Mitchell store. Jack Davis had just shot John Harty, and ran out of the store, leaped onto his horse, and spurred away. Men scrambled in every direction after their horses to pursue the fleeing killer, and Pope, together with the constable, lost a little time in selecting horses that could stand the chase.

Rather than following the crowd of pursuers, Pope and the constable set out across country by longer but faster route to intersect the fugitive's course. The Constable's horse became lame, and he was compelled to drop back, but Pope forged ahead. After traveling about four miles northwest, he saw Davis emerge from the brush along the creek and climb a reef of rock to the north, still on horseback.

Having a better horse, Pope soon closed the distance between them and they began to shoot at each other, but being at full gallop (western movies notwithstanding) their shots were ineffective. One of Davis bullets struck the horn of Pope's saddle, which ricocheted harmlessly, and Davis, by this time reaching the cover of some rocks at the foot of the reef, found himself trapped. There was no exit except directly into the guns of Pope, who held him at bay until the arrival of the posse.

At the direction of Pope they surrounded the rocks where Davis was secluded, and in a few minutes a hat was being raised above the rocks on a rifle barrel, and Davis surrendered. By the time the constable arrived, the prisoner was handcuffed and ready for transport to jail.

That fall, without his knowledge or consent, John T. Pope was nominated for the office of Sheriff of

Uintah County, and was elected unanimously. But it was not merely for his bravery that Pope was elected; there were no other candidates. No one wanted the job. Uintah County was one of the stations on the Outlaw Trail, which ran from Canada to Mexico, and was situated between Brown's Park and Robbers Roost, two of the most notorious outlaw refuges in the West. The country was frequented by rustlers, bank and train robbers, and every other kind of badman that the era produced. Lawmen never ventured into Brown's Park before the advent of Sheriff John T. Pope.

Some forty miles west of Vernal, also on the Outlaw Trail, was another outlaw refuge known as the Strip, a 700 acre triangular section of the Indian reservation set aside as a "no-man's land" for the Anheuser-Busch Brewing Company who held a lease for asphalt and gilsonite mining. The area, through Congressional oversight, was beyond all legal jurisdiction, a fact soon capitalized on by every badman and renegade in the region. Gambling flourished openly, and saloon-keepers bootlegged to the Indians, and blood ran as freely as liquor.

Vernal was located in the middle of these wide-open outlaw stations, and members of various gangs -especially the Wild Bunch - discovered that they were virtually safe from arrest in the region. The Vernal jail house was burned down by these outlaws virtually every year, and Sheriffs were either killed, ran out of the country, or convinced to resign office "for health reasons." John T. Pope was the county's fifth Sheriff and he was not to be intimidated.

The county court authorized him to purchase three pairs of handcuffs, four dark lanterns, one set of leg irons, and, with his own money, he bought a 4 3/4 inch Colt's .45 revolver (Serial # 109616), a holster, and a heavy leather vest. These items, coupled with his good horse and ever-present Winchester, made Sheriff Pope formidable opposition to the outlaw element. It would not be long before he got the opportunity to discharge his official duties.

One of Sheriff Pope's first acts of office was to show the outlaws of Brown's Park that he was not afraid of them by riding boldly into the Park alone -the first Sheriff ever to do so. Not only did he enter there, but he took up a ranch on Red Creek and settled right in the midst of them.

From the beginning Pope let it be known that there would be no trouble with anyone unless they broke the law, but that law-breakers would be pursued and arrested. "The law has come to Brown's Park," he announced. Having said it, now he would have to back it up.

The first to challenge the edict was "Buckskin" Ed Carouthers, so nicknamed because he always wore buckskin trousers that were stiff and bent at the knees making him appear always ready to jump. He packed two long-barrIed six-shooters and was generally in trouble with the law. There was an out-standing warrant for his arrest, but Buckskin Ed warned that he would not be taken alive, and went into hiding in a cabin as soon as Sheriff Pope issued his edict. Pope, however, slipped up to the cabin during the night, and when Buckskin E Buckskin Ed came out early next morning to answer the call of nature Pope was waiting for him. Sheriff Pope handcuffed his prisoner and set out on the long forty-odd mile ride to vernal. It became necessary to cross the green river in a row boat, in the center of Browns Park, and Pope placed his prisoner in the skiff, tied the horses behind and began rowing across the river.Buckskin Ed waited until Pope's attention was momentarily diverted, then pulled out a pocket knife, and jabbed it suddenly and deeply into the Sheriffs throat. He had attacked Pope from behind, but the lawman managed to grab his gun and fire blindly over his shoulder, striking Buckskin Ed in the face; he fell overboard into the river, leaving bloody rivulets in the water as he drifted downstream with the current.

The knife had fortunately had a small blade and while it had penetrated Pope's windpipe, it had not severed a major artery. He tied his neckerchief tightly around his neck and made the long ride home. A few days later Charley Crouse came in from Brown's Park and asked Sheriff Pope what had become of Buckskin Ed. The Sheriff responded: "The last time I saw him he was on his way to Arizona." Thereafter, whenever anyone disappeared from Brown's Park - and there were many - it became a favorite saying that he had "Gone to Arizona." A year later Speck Williams, a black man who operated a ferry on the river, found Ed's body in a pile of driftwood in Lodore Canyon. Sheriff Pope bore the ugly scar on his throat for the remainder of his life.

Not long after the above - mentioned incident, Sheriff Pope and Sheriff Charles Willis Neiman of Routt County, Colorado (the state lines of Utah-Wyoming-Colorado met nearly in the center of Brown's Park) pursued three Mexican horse thieves into Brown's Park and came upon them asleep in their camp. Pope yelled, "Hands up!" One obeyed the command, but the other two reached for their rifles, but Pope shot both of them dead before Sheriff Neiman could assist. The third one made a break, leaping onto an unsaddled horse, and escaped in a hail of lead poured after him by the two sheriffs. They trailed him for about sixty miles before coming up on him in an abandoned log cabin, dead. Sheriff Pope's report of the incident reads: "Died on the trail from wound he received by resisting arrest."

On the Fourth of July, 1891, Jim McKee came into Vernal, and stood in the middle of the street, cursing Pope and his "goddamned law and order," accentuating his remarks with an occasional shot from his six-shooter. He defied Pope to show his face in the street. At that very moment, Sheriff Pope, who had approached silently from behind, placed a hand on McKee's shoulder and in a quiet but firm tone, placed him under arrest. McKee snarled some obscenities and grabbed for his gun, but Pope put an arm-lock on the outlaw's neck; McKee struggled to free himself, then tried to reach for his gun again. Dick Pope, the Sheriffs brother, came running up and clubbed McKee over the head with his gun-butt, knocking him unconscious momentarily. When he came to his senses, he found Sheriff Pope's gun struck in his ribs. As he was dragged off to jail, McKee warned the Sheriff that his gang was in town for the celebration (Independence Day) and that they would "burn your goddamned jail to the ground." Pope, showing very little sign of emotion, simply replied, "Too bad, 'cause they'll soon be in it!" Pope deputized a posse and soon rounded up McKee's gang, as predicted.

Before long, however, McKee and his gang were back on the street, and Pope knew that he must take the man's threats seriously,, now more than ever. Whenever he walked the streets at night, he packed his sawed-off shotgun under his arm, kept his hand on the butt of his gun, and walked only in the middle of the street.

McKee took a shot at him in the dark, but missed. Pope fired at the flash, then pursued the 

Silhouette into the Antler Saloon where he found McKee and his gang at the bar. They all claimed that Mckee had been with them all evening, but Pope knew better by McKee's red face, but there was nothing he could do about it, except to issue a stern warning.

The outlaw gangs offered a reward on Sheriff John T. Pope's head, ranging at various times from fifteen hundred to four thousand dollars. Numerous ambushes were set by the outlaws, but Sheriff Pope's alertness and bravado kept him alive.

One day while riding down Sear's Canyon into Brown's Park, a rifle shot from a nearby rim-rock dropped his horse under him, shot through the head. Even as the horse fell, Pope jerked his Winchester from its scabbard and rolled free of the dead animal. He then dove for cover behind the carcass and lay flat on the ground.

Sheriff Pope then shoved his rifle beneath the saddle blanket, where it would not show, then lay perfectly still. The ambusher kept shooting into the body of the horse, hoping to penetrate it enough to hit the Sheriff. After getting no response from the Sheriff, the man assumed he had killed Pope with the first shot, and he slowly arose from behind the rocks. Pope shot him through the head.

On another occasion, while he was riding from Vernal to the little town of Jensen, Utah, a few miles east on the banks of the Green River, he was ambushed from some willows along Ashley Creek. The bullet plowed a furrow across his breast, not hitting the bone, but stinging like a red-hot branding iron. The roar of the rifle caused Pope's horse to bolt and run, and he made no effort to stop him. After riding about a mile, Pope dismounted, pulled his rifle, and crept on foot up the creek bed, until he saw his man emerging from cover; out-raged, Pope dispatched him with one shot.

Gunplay Maxwell was a well known outlaw who had attempted to join Butch Cassidy's Wild Bunch, but had been rejected. Not to be outdone, Gunplay formed his own gang, with which he tried to emulate the deeds of the Wild Bunch, and earned for himself a reputation as a tough badman. When Maxwell's gang rustled some local horses, Sheriff Pope rounded them up and brought them to trial. The jury convicted only four members of the gang, and Pope was forced to set Gunplay Maxwell free. As he handed Maxwell's gun back to him, the Sheriff broke the chamber, then said very coldly: "If you're still in town at sundown, the undertaker will be wiping your ass."

Pope's reputation continued to grow, and with it, he became somewhat hardened. By January, 1896, he was both county Sheriff and town marshal. The owner of a local restaurant sent for him one day, reporting that a stranger was causing a ruckus in his establishment. Pope entered the restaurant and told the man he was under arrest, whereby the stranger grabbed a rifle.

Pope drew his pistol and with it struck the man's wrist, knocking the rifle from his grip; but Pope also dropped his gun, and the stranger attacked him and they rolled on the floor in a rough and tumble fight. Pope eventually managed to reach his gun and struck the man over the head. As the man fell unconscious to the floor, the enraged Sheriff leveled his gun at his head and cocked back the hammer, fully intending to shoot. A bystander, sensing his intentions, grabbed the gun from Pope's hand, saying: "For God’s sake, John, don't kill him - he's had enough." Pope later expressed his gratitude to the man for preventing the

unnecessary killing." I have never killed other than in self defense," he said.

When John T. Pope ranched on Red Creek in Brown's Park, his frequent visitors were Butch Cassidy, the Sundance Kid, Elzy Lay, and other leaders of the infamous Wild Bunch. However, these men were not the usual trouble-makers that Pope had to deal with, and, in fact, he maintained a close personal friendship with both Cassidy and Lay.

In 1896, Matt Warner and his friend, Bill Wall, had been ambushed in the mountains north of Vernal by three men: the Staunton brothers, Ike and Dick, and Dave Milton. Warner killed Dick Staunton and Dave Milton, and severely wounded Ike Staunton. Although Warner and Wall were merely defending themselves, Warner was a notorious member of the Wild Bunch, and it became Pope's duty to remand them to jail pending trial. This put him in direct confrontation with his friend, Butch Cassidy.

Pope conferred with Cassidy at the Antler Saloon, and, after a brief visit with Matt Warner, the Wild Bunch leader came back to inform Pope that as long as Warner and Wall received fair treatment, he (Cassidy) would create no problems while they were in Pope's custody.

But it was not meant to be. An angry mob stormed the jail when Pope was away and tried to take the two prisoners out for a lynching. Only Matt Warner's quick wit saved them. In the dark jail - for it was late at night -Warner popped a paper sack in his hands, and one of the mob cried out: "Get the hell out of here; he's got a gun!" Bob Swift, one of Cassidy's friends, ran to the saloon and informed Butch of what was going on, and within minutes, Cassidy and some of the Wild Bunch were standing guard duty in front of the jail, awaiting Pope's return.

When Pope arrived, he set fire to a large pile of lumber stacked in front of the jail to provide light (the lumber was scheduled for construction of a new jail), and with his brothers and eighty-five year-old father, stood guard duty through the night. Cassidy confronted him then, saying that he had kept his word, but that come daylight, if Pope did not remove his friends Warner and Wall to a safer place, "I'll take them out of there myself even if it means going through you to do it!" Pope knew that he meant it.

Early the following morning, Pope took his prisoners from the jail, shackled them to saddles on horseback, and under heavy guard escorted them over the Uintah Mountains toward Wyoming. They stopped at Sheep Creek Canyon long enough to transfer the prisoners to a wagon, borrowed from one of Sheriff Pope's deputies, Cleophas J. Dowd - the same man who had been the object of pursuit some years before for the kidnapping of Sheriff Colton's niece. The prisoners were then delivered to the railroad station at Bryan, Wyoming, for transport to Ogden, Utah, where they would languish in jail awaiting trial.

But this did not end the problem for Pope. Butch Cassidy, Elzy Lay, and Bub Meeks shortly thereafter robbed the bank at Montpelier, Idaho to secure money for Warner and Wall's defense.

Pope received a warrant for Cassidy's arrest, and it became his duty to serve it. It was rumored that Cassidy and Lay were staying at the Allen Davis home on the outskirts of old Ashley Town, several miles from Vernal. Elzy Lay had recently married Davis’ daughter Maude.

Sheriff Pope gathered a posse consisting of Joe Moore, Nat Hunting, Dick Pope, and Pete Dillman. It was dark when the posse arrived at the Davis house. Pete Dillman offered to go in first, inasmuch as he

had planned on asking young Albert Davis to work for him a couple of weeks, and so had an excuse. He could look around inside and see what was going on. When he was escorted into the house, Allen Davis and his wife appeared to be alone, but both were extremely nervous. Dillman asked them to give Albert the message when he returned home and then left the house, pretending to leave for home.

In a few minutes Allen Davis slipped out the back door and ran straight into Sheriff Pope. Regaining his composure, Davis demanded to know what Pope was doing on his property, and the Sheriff apprised him of whom he was looking for. Davis admitted the outlaws had been there earlier but had since departed for parts unknown. He invited Pope to inspect the house himself to remove all doubt.

Pope started into the house but Pete Dillman warned that it would be more prudent to retrieve their horses left in the brush to prevent the outlaws from making off with them. While they were after their horses, Davis’ young son, Frank, ran to a nearby cabin where Elzy Lay was staying, and warned him to escape.

When Sheriff Pope and his posse returned to Vernal, they passed the Antler Saloon, operated by two of Cassidy's friends, Charley Crouse and Aaron Overhalt. Albert Davis was sitting on the steps, and Dillman saw him get up quickly and rush inside. Butch Cassidy was inside the saloon, but escaped out of the back door. Three weeks later Sheriff Pope received a postcard mailed from St. John's, Arizona, which read: "Pope, gawd damn you, lay off me. I don't want to kill you!" It was signed, "Butch."

However, "Queen" Anne Bassett, a lady cattle rustler, who was not fond of Pope, wrote in her diary that Butch Cassidy and Elzy Lay often made headquarters while in Vernal at the home of "Super-Man Sheriff Pope." Queen Anne was critical of the statement that Butch had "just stepped out the door," when Sheriff Pope attempted an arrest; she insisted that Pope had let him get away.

At that time the term of office for Uintah County Sheriff was two years, and at the end of 1893, with one year left in his second term, Pope resigned, claiming the selectmen had not paid his claims for three months. George Searle was appointed to replace him. When financial problems were resolved next year, Pope ran for office again, and filled another two year term. In all, he was Sheriff of Uintah County for five years.

At the end of Sheriff Pope's last term, he was presented with a gold sheriffs badge by the Governor of Utah. The badge was inscribed with his initials, and "Sheriff of Uintah County."

Nevertheless, he was far from retirement. He continued to serve as town marshal in Vernal until 1899, and when nearby Myton, Utah was being overrun with outlaws, Pope was hired as Chief Marshal to clean it up. With the breaking up of the Wild Bunch in 1901, the outlaw regime in the Uintah Basin was nearing an end, and with it, Pope's usefulness as a lawman. When the Government opened the Uintah Ouray Indian Reservation to white settlement in 1905, territorial officers were allowed to control the Strip, and the outlaws element left "between days."

Pope turned his interest in the law in other directions, running for the office of Uintah County Attorney in 1902. He lost the election, but ran again in 1904 and won, but it was not until 1906 that Pope made the trip to Salt Lake City and passed the bar exam - quite an achievement in itself, inasmuch as he was totally self-educated, and never spent a day in law school. In 1907 he was defeated at election, but continued to practice law and to operate numerous business and mining ventures.

John T. Pope was, in many ways, typical of the breed of lawmen nurtured by that lawless era; but in many other aspects of his life and character, he was matchless. In his old age, when John Dillinger was running rampant and stimulating headlines, Pope was asked what he would do to handle the situation, if Dillinger had lived when he was Sheriff. With and expression that put to rest any doubt as to his sincerity, Pope replied: "If John Dillinger had been alive then - it wouldn't have been for long!"

John T. Pope died January 1, 1943, in Vernal, Utah, at the age of 83. His likes shall not pass this way again, for when he died, so did his era

Sources:

The Last Cowboy Sheri , an unpublished history of John T.

Pope which he related to Lora Sannes.

The Outlaw Trail, Robert Redford, Grosset & Dunlap, N.Y.,

1976, 1978

Uintah County Commission Minute Books, 1882-1900.

Gun West, 16 Jan. 1981, "Sheriff Pope Stood Tall Against

'Butch' Cassidy," by E. Dixon Larson.

Uintah's Story, Uintah School Board, 1947, "Sheriff John

T. Pope," by Glade Watkins.

The Life and Times of Peter Dillman, Peter Dillman, Art City

Publishing Co., Springville, Utah, 1954.

Anne Bassett, Evelyn Peavy Semontan, from the Diary and

Manuscripts of Anne Bassett Willis.

Vernal Express newspaper: 16 Jan. 1896, 8 June 1893,

21 Sept. 1899.