Benson Shootout – February 28, 1907

The Benson Shootout (also known as the Shootout in Benson or the Rock Fight) occurred on February 27–28, 1907 (sources vary slightly on the exact calendar date due to overnight events), in Benson, Arizona Territory. It stands as one of the last notable Old West-style gunfights, remarkable for its origins in a love triangle, its intense close-quarters combat, and its unusual conclusion involving thrown rocks.

Background and Reason for the Shootout

The confrontation stemmed from a classic lovers’ triangle involving jealousy, pursuit, and threats of violence.

J.A. Tracy, a wealthy businessman and agent for the Helvetia Copper Company at Vail Station, had a prior romantic relationship with a young woman from a prominent Colorado family (her name was withheld from contemporary newspapers to protect her family’s reputation). She rejected further involvement with him and moved on. Between 1905 and 1906, she met and allegedly married D.W. Silverton, Jr. (son of a Kentucky Colonel) in Phoenix, possibly in a ceremony performed by a traveling evangelist. Some later accounts questioned whether the marriage was fully legitimate, but the couple presented themselves as married.

Tracy, unwilling to accept the rejection, pursued the couple with threatening letters. In February 1907, learning they were heading toward Bisbee, he followed them. The Silvertons spotted him at Vail Station and continued to Benson, a key railroad town, where they stayed overnight at the Virginia Hotel near the station. Fearing for their lives, they sought help from local law enforcement and bystanders.

Arizona Ranger Lieutenant Harry C. Wheeler (sometimes referred to in accounts as part of a group with Captain Thomas H. Rynning) was also staying at the Virginia Hotel. The Silvertons informed him of the threats, showed him a photograph of Tracy, and described the danger. Wheeler, known as a level-headed and exceptionally skilled gunman, agreed to intervene and arrest Tracy if he posed an immediate threat.

The Participants

Cochise County Sheriff Harry C. Wheeler — in the pre-statehood Arizona Territory.
Cochise County Sheriff Harry C. Wheeler — in the pre-statehood Arizona Territory.
  • Harry C. Wheeler (1875–1925): Born in Jacksonville, Florida, to a military family (his father was a West Point graduate). Wheeler enlisted in the U.S. Army in 1897, served in the Spanish-American War with the 1st Cavalry as an expert marksman, and received a medical discharge as a sergeant in 1902. He joined the Arizona Rangers in 1903, rising quickly to sergeant and then lieutenant. He had already been involved in at least one prior fatal shooting (killing a saloon robber in Tucson in 1904). Wheeler was respected for his marksmanship, professionalism, and restraint—he reportedly lived by a code that he would never fire first. He later became the third and final captain of the Arizona Rangers (1907–1909), served as Cochise County Sheriff (1912–1918), and as a U.S. Army captain in World War I. He died young in 1925.
  • J.A. Tracy: A prosperous mining company agent from Nevada who had relocated to Arizona. Contemporary accounts portray him as determined and volatile in matters of the heart. He was reportedly wanted for two murders in Nevada (with a $500 reward), one victim being the brother of a former Arizona Ranger, though Wheeler later declined the blood money and suggested it go to the victim’s widow.
  • D.W. Silverton, Jr., and his wife: The couple at the center of the dispute. Silverton confronted Tracy earlier at Vail Station. They were the ones who alerted Wheeler and sought protection while trying to board a train out of Benson.

Other minor figures included hotel staff, bystanders, and possibly Captain Thomas H. Rynning (Wheeler’s superior), who was in the area.

The Shootout

On the morning of the incident, Tracy was at the railroad station/platform, armed with a Colt .45 revolver and waiting as the Silvertons prepared to depart for Bisbee. When he spotted them, he drew his weapon and threatened them.

Wheeler approached and identified himself: “Hold on there. I arrest you. Give me that gun.” Tracy immediately opened fire. A furious pistol duel ensued at close range. Wheeler drew his own revolver and returned fire while advancing methodically, hitting Tracy four times (accounts vary on exact locations but generally include wounds to the neck/chest area, shoulder, hip/thigh, and arm). Tracy hit Wheeler at least once or twice—commonly described as a serious wound to the upper left thigh/groin area and later to the foot/heel.

Tracy feigned surrender (“I am all in. My gun is empty”), prompting Wheeler to lower his guard and approach. Tracy then fired again (hitting Wheeler in the foot). Out of ammunition, Wheeler resorted to throwing rocks at Tracy (or, in some versions, clubbing him with a rock while both were down). The fight ended with both men severely wounded on the street. Wheeler reportedly quipped to the dying Tracy something like, “Well, it was a great fight while it lasted, wasn’t it, old man?” Tracy allegedly expressed no ill will toward Wheeler before succumbing.

The Silvertons escaped unharmed and continued on.

Aftermath

Tracy died of his wounds shortly afterward, reportedly at or near Mescal Station en route to Tucson. Wheeler was seriously wounded but recovered fully after treatment (including time in Tombstone) and returned to duty. He was soon promoted to captain of the Arizona Rangers.

The incident received significant newspaper coverage as a dramatic example of frontier justice. Wheeler wrote a detailed letter to his friend, Pima County Sheriff Nabor Pacheco, expressing sorrow over the necessity of the killing despite believing it was justified.

The Benson Shootout highlighted the twilight of the Old West era and the Arizona Rangers’ role in maintaining order in a still-rough territory. It added to Wheeler’s legendary status as a fearless lawman. Benson, a railroad hub, preserved some of the sites (like the reconstructed station), and the event remains a colorful footnote in Arizona history.

This gunfight is often remembered not just for the bullets but for Wheeler’s resourcefulness with rocks when his revolver ran dry—earning it the nickname “Rock Fight” in some retellings. It exemplified the personal, high-stakes nature of law enforcement in the early 20th-century Southwest.

Gleeson Gunfight – March 5, 1917

The Gleeson Gunfight (also known as the Gleeson Shootout) occurred on the night of March 5, 1917, near Gleeson in Cochise County, southeastern Arizona. It is widely regarded as one of the last traditional gunfights of the Old West, taking place during the transition to the modern era marked by automobiles, World War I, and statewide Prohibition.

Background and Context

Gleeson's Main Street in 1917. Original publication: 1917 Gleeson, Arizona
Gleeson’s Main Street in 1917. Original publication: 1917 Gleeson, Arizona

Gleeson was a small mining town in the Courtland-Gleeson Mining District, known for copper and turquoise. By 1917, the area had quieted from its earlier boom days but remained active with mining and border-related activities.

Arizona had gone “dry” on January 1, 1915, banning the sale and manufacture of alcohol. However, neighboring Mexico and parts of New Mexico remained “wet,” turning the U.S.-Mexico border and areas like Cochise County into major smuggling corridors for bootleggers.

Harry C. Wheeler, a former captain in the Arizona Rangers and then Sheriff of Cochise County, was a staunch enforcer of Prohibition. A nationally recognized champion marksman, Wheeler and his deputies frequently patrolled the border regions and had been involved in several prior shootouts with smugglers.

The Gunfight

On March 5, 1917, Sheriff Wheeler and his deputy, Lafe Gibson, had spent the day searching the Chiricahua Mountains for smugglers. Exhausted after dark, they pulled their 1915 Oldsmobile Touring Car off the road about two miles east of Gleeson, near the Southern Pacific Railroad tracks, and camped for the night.

Cochise County Sheriff Harry C. Wheeler — in the pre-statehood Arizona Territory.
Cochise County Sheriff Harry C. Wheeler — in the pre-statehood Arizona Territory.

They were ambushed shortly after settling down. A gang of at least four Mexican alcohol smugglers, positioned behind rocks about 200 yards away, opened fire. The first shot shattered the car’s windshield.

Wheeler and Gibson returned fire. Wheeler, armed with a rifle and a box of ammunition, took a position on the railroad berm. Gibson had only his revolver and belt ammunition. The smugglers advanced under cover of darkness, closing to within 50 yards while shouting taunts like “We’ll fix you gringos!” and “Come and get us now!”

The full moon initially silhouetted the lawmen, giving the attackers an advantage. After exchanging roughly 100 shots, Wheeler waited for the moon to set. When one smuggler nearly hit him, Wheeler aimed at the muzzle flash and fired six rapid shots from his rifle. He struck the man, who groaned audibly, halting the smugglers’ advance.

Once the moon dipped below the horizon, Wheeler and Gibson charged the attackers’ position. The smugglers had fled, abandoning their camp. The lawmen found four burros loaded with ten cases of whiskey. A large pool of blood and drag marks (knee and elbow prints) indicated at least one smuggler was seriously wounded (possibly killed), though no body was recovered. Horse tracks led toward the Chiricahua Mountains.

Aftermath and Capture

Wheeler and Gibson drove their damaged car to nearby Courtland and telegraphed for reinforcements. Chief Deputy Guy Welch arrived from Tombstone with additional men and supplies.

Knowing the smugglers would likely try to cross into Mexico via Apache Pass, the posse pursued them. They captured two members of the gang, including leader Santiago Garcia, who were jailed in the Gleeson Jail. Garcia later claimed they mistook the lawmen for rival bootleggers trying to hijack their load. The remaining smugglers escaped across the border.

The Gleeson Jail upon completion in 1910.
The Gleeson Jail upon completion in 1910.

The confiscated whiskey was taken to Tombstone. The Gleeson gunfight was Sheriff Wheeler’s final shootout. He later resigned to serve in World War I, returned, ran unsuccessfully for sheriff again, and died in 1925.

Historical Significance

The Gleeson Gunfight symbolizes the end of an era. While earlier famous shootouts like the Gunfight at the O.K. Corral (1881) occurred in a lawless frontier, this 1917 event involved automobiles, Prohibition smuggling, and a shift toward modern law enforcement — yet it retained the classic elements of an Old West ambush and firefight.

The restored Gleeson Jail (built in 1909–1910) still stands today as a tangible link to this history and the broader mining and law enforcement stories of Cochise County. The event is remembered in local histories, ghost town tours, and accounts of Arizona’s Prohibition-era border conflicts.

This relatively minor but dramatic confrontation highlights the ongoing challenges of border control, smuggling, and law enforcement in early 20th-century Arizona.

Palace Saloon Shootout – October 23, 1904

In the early 20th century, Arizona Territory was transitioning from the lawless frontier era of the 1880s into a more settled period, though pockets of outlaw activity, cattle rustling, smuggling, and armed robbery persisted, especially near the Mexican border. The Arizona Rangers, a territorial mounted police force established in 1901, played a key role in combating this lawlessness. Composed of skilled lawmen and marksmen, the Rangers operated across the territory with broad authority.

Tucson, a growing city and Pima County seat, retained many characteristics of its Wild West past, including numerous saloons that served as social hubs, gambling dens, and occasional sites of violence. The Palace Saloon, located on Congress Street, was one such establishment.

The Incident

Cochise County Sheriff Harry C. Wheeler — in the pre-statehood Arizona Territory.
Cochise County Sheriff Harry C. Wheeler — in the pre-statehood Arizona Territory.

On the night of October 23, 1904—half an hour before midnight—Joe Bostwick, a would-be robber, entered the Palace Saloon through the rear door. His face was concealed by a red bandana with eyeholes, and he brandished a long-barreled Colt .45 revolver.

Bostwick ordered the bartender, card dealers, and the roughly eight customers present to raise their hands and move into a side room. He then moved toward the craps table to seize the scattered money. One customer managed to slip out the front door undetected.

Outside on Congress Street, the escaping patron encountered Arizona Ranger Sergeant Harry C. Wheeler, who had just left nearby Wanda’s Restaurant. The man urgently warned Wheeler of the holdup. Wheeler, a crack shot with a reputation for coolness under pressure, calmly replied, “All right. That’s what I’m here for.”

Wheeler drew his single-action Colt .45 and approached the front door of the saloon. Bostwick spotted the lawman and whirled to fire. Wheeler was faster, firing first. His shot grazed Bostwick’s forehead above the right eye. Bostwick returned fire wildly. Wheeler then fired a second, fatal shot that struck Bostwick in the right side of the chest. The robber collapsed mortally wounded to the saloon floor.

The entire confrontation was brief and decisive, typical of the close-quarters gunfights that defined frontier law enforcement.

Aftermath and Wheeler’s Response

Wheeler expressed regret over the necessity of the shooting but showed no hesitation about his actions. In an interview with the Tucson Citizen, he stated: “I am sorry that this happened, but it was either his life or mine, and if I hadn’t been just a little quicker on the draw than he was, I might be in his position now.”

The incident brought Wheeler significant public attention and helped solidify his reputation as an effective and fearless Arizona Ranger. He would go on to have a distinguished career, later serving as a captain in the Rangers and eventually as sheriff of Cochise County. He was involved in other notable shootouts, including one in Benson in 1907.

Significance

The Palace Saloon Shootout represents one of the last notable examples of classic Old West-style gunfighting in an urban setting in Arizona Territory. It highlighted the ongoing role of the Arizona Rangers in maintaining order during a time of rapid modernization and statehood preparations (Arizona became a state in 1912). Unlike more famous confrontations like the Gunfight at the O.K. Corral in Tombstone (1881), this event was smaller in scale but emblematic of the everyday dangers faced by lawmen confronting opportunistic criminals in saloons and public spaces.

Today, the site of the former Palace Saloon is associated with modern Tucson landmarks (some accounts link it to the general area of what is now near Club Congress), though the building itself has long since changed. The event lives on in Arizona law enforcement history and accounts of the Arizona Rangers.

This shootout underscores the complex transition of the American Southwest: a place where personal courage and marksmanship still decided outcomes, even as the frontier was closing. Harry Wheeler’s actions that night exemplified the Ranger ethos—direct, effective intervention in defense of the public.