Two Pistol Pete

By Steve Frazier

For Those Who Believe

Pete Farnham was a troubled man who died with a troubled spirit. Several residents of his old homestead have experienced times of paranormal activity. One neighbor has even reported seeing old Pete and his beloved Sarah walking around on the property that old Pete once owned. Sometimes he can be heard playing his harmonica around Valle's Mines. If ever you should encounter these spirits, be not afraid. They will not harm you. They're just taking care of some unfinished business.

Valles Mines Depot 1905. Photo credit: Ellis Grandjean

• Language: English
• Publisher: Newman Springs Publishing, Inc.
• Release date: May 23, 2022
• ISBN: 9781636928715

Book preview

Preface

The story of Two-Pistol Pete is a total work of fiction. Some of the characters in the book were based on real people and the real jobs that they had in and around Valles Mines, Missouri. None of the real names were used, and any similarities between the real residents and the fictitious characters are purely coincidental. The old mining town of Valles Mines is a very real place. Visit us here at our museum, and you can see some of the old buildings and historic sites in which the book is based upon. Two-Pistol Pete was written only for your amusement and entertainment. Hope you enjoy the story and can come visit our ghost town.

Steve Frazier

Pa sitting on the Valle House porch by George

Introduction

The year was 1885. The small mining village of Valles Mines, Missouri, was taking a giant step forward with the arrival of its first train. Valles Mines is a town named after its first settler Francois Valle, who in 1749 came to the region from Ste. Genevieve to purchase lead from the Indians. With the help of the Indians and some slaves, Valle sank his first mine in the territory and the area became known as Valles Mines which in French back then meant, the Valle Family’s Mines. By 1819 the Valle Mining Company was formed and by 1885 the town had gone from boom to bust twice. But this year would be a good year. The M.R. & B.T. or Mississippi River and Bonne Terre Railway was finally completed. This event would revolutionize mining and farming in the area and change people’s lives for the next century. Up to this time most supplies and exports were brought to and from Valles Mines by way of the Selma Trail using oxcarts or mule wagons. Taking an oxcart of lead some thirty miles northeast up the trail and back with sundries and other supplies was a two-day affair and longer in bad weather. The little train could do all that and much more and do it much faster. The train was soon hauling ore, passengers, livestock, supplies for three stores, lumber, dynamite, and even the U.S. Mail. This meant more work, more workers, and more business for the community. Once again, the tiny hamlet would be referred to as Boom Town. Barges and steamboats would now offload their cargo onto train cars and the old Selma Trail would soon fade into the past. The arrival of this railroad was long awaited by everyone, well, almost everyone. Here is a story from a person from the past who lived during this era and saw how Valles Mines changed.

Old photograph of store

Chapter One

Two-Pistol Pete

It was 5:00 p.m. and off in the distance, a great rumble could be heard as the evening train approached Valles Mines. Among the townsfolk who turned out to meet the train that evening was a farmhand accompanied by two young boys, Gus and George. The mule team was tied to a hitching rail near the depot and the boys played in the back of the wagon. Suddenly the mules began to fidget around as the earth trembled beneath their hoofs. A mighty whistle sounded that could be heard for miles. As the big iron horse screeched its way past the water tower, Gus jumped up and down, yelling, There she is! There she is! I see her! Here she comes! Here comes Pa! exclaimed little George in excitement. Now settle down, you two ornery ones, you’re a scarin’ the mules, warned the rough exterior farmhand. They already skeered half to death of that thing. Your pa might be on that thing and he might not and don’t you two billy goats get too close to it neither. By this time, people were running from all around to join the folks who were already waiting to meet the train. Among them were two local storekeepers, the blacksmith, farmers, miners, and the constable. Even tie hackers, working on the nearby hillside, laid down their axes and hurried toward the depot. The awesome event had finally come to pass! The engineer, seeing that folks were having a hard time keeping their children and beasts corralled, didn’t blow his mighty whistle again. Instead the train slowly chugged up to the newly built station and let out a loud chssssss as the steam was released. I knew she’d make it! said Bill Burt. She sure is a sight for sore eyes. Mr. and Mrs. Burt and family ran the company store and the local boardinghouse. He knew that the train would be good for business. Boy, oh boy! That thing sure is a throwin’ a lot of heat! Reckon’ it could blow up? Ben Richards asked several of the spectators at once. The engineer was just stepping down off the engine. Ah no, that’s just steam. That’s what makes her go. The only worry I got is keepin’ this thing on the rails and youngins’ off the track, he added, as he glanced over to Gus and George and grinned. The engineer then turned his attention to Frank Snow, who was head of the railroad section crew assigned to the new line. That stretch between Papin Switch and here is just muddy roadbed and loose rails, had to slow the train down. It’s dangerous there, said Mr. Bill, the engineer. From that moment on, the Mississippi River to Bonne Terre—MR & BT—short line took on a nickname of some of the local skeptics, the Muddy Road and Bad Track line. Nonetheless, it was here to stay. When the passenger door opened, the third person off the train was Mr. Peter Pete B. Farnham. Pete was no stranger to the area or to trains. Much of the timber used to build the rail line and the cordwood used to fire the boiler of the train came off of Pete’s farm. (Legend has it that at one point, Pete and his work hands butchered a beef a day for a month, in addition to pigs and goats, to feed the workmen.) Pete was not only a successful farmer but also a businessman of sorts. He and his wife, Sarah, ran a small log store near their home and supplied another store in the neighboring community of French Village. Pete’s interests didn’t stop there, not by any means. Pete and his workhands staked claims and operated a lead mine. Also, Pete had recently taken on a new job as timber agent and superintendent of the Valle Mining Company. This job was one that he didn’t take lightly and was the reason he was riding the first train today. Valle’s Mines was no place for a lightweight. Looking after five-thousand-plus acres of mines, mills, smelters, and workers was a hardy task. It took a stern man of principle and authority and Pete Farnham was just such a man. Pete didn’t possess a lot of book learnin’, nor was he a whiz at figures (clerking the store was Sarah’s job), but he was chosen to run things because of various other characteristics. He was a no-nonsense person, strong in will and body, honest, devoted, a hard worker but a simple man who was large and stout with a serious handlebar mustache. He didn’t always have a lot to say, but when he spoke, folks listened. To those who knew him, just the thought of his stern, earnest face was enough to make any claim jumper turn tail and run. Pete didn’t wear a badge because officially he wasn’t a lawman. Instead, Pete wore a pistol on each hip, which commanded respect on even the most lawless of lands, hence, the nickname of Two-Pistol Pete. His firm belief in frontier justice gave him a reputation early on. To Pete, it was just keepin’ things straight. (There is some doubt about whether Pete ever drew a gun on a man with any intention of killing him, that is, up ’til now.)

Buck Jones was Pete’s main farmhand and mining partner. Buck took care of things around the farm and up at the mine when Pete couldn’t be there. Pete relied heavily on Buck to always be there and to take up the slack. Buck had no family to take up his time or to prevent him from being Pete’s No. 1 man. He was a man of common sense and of morals. Buck was a tall, thin man, and quite muscular. Buck could split rails, hack ties, or crib a mine, and those were the main qualifications one needed to be favorably employed by Pete Farnham. They first met when Buck was staying at Burt’s boardinghouse where he saw Pete pass by there with an oxcart load of lead from the mine. Buck had been looking for work, and someone had told him about the mines. He asked Pete if he needed another good hand and before anyone knew it, Pete and two other workers were helping Buck build his house on Pete’s spread. It wasn’t really much of a house, just a two-room log cabin at the south end of the farm, but to Buck, it was a real home for once. The cabin had a dirt floor and a dug well, but Buck was satisfied with it. Sarah and the children were also fond of Buck, and he was soon like family. Buck was always around to help, and he always seemed to take care of the chores that Pete never found time to do. No one ever knew, or ever asked, where Buck came from originally. He came from somewhere up north and that was all anyone would ever know about him. Some thought that he was probably from Iowa and had to leave there for some reason. All that didn’t matter to Pete or anyone else. As long as a man was honest and hardworking, no one meddled in his personal affairs. Pete stepped off the depot platform with a small metal box under one arm and picked up little George with the other arm. George went right to work checking his pa’s many pockets for surprises. Gus, being the older of the two, stood waiting patiently while Pete lowered George to the ground. He then reached into his trouser pocket and brought out a large handful of rock candy. Both boys helped themselves to a handful, then Pete spit out his chewin’ tobacco and popped the last piece of candy into his own mouth. Now, you boys, be sure and save some of that for yer ma and sister, warned Pete. Of course, Pete knew that Sarah wouldn’t eat any of the candy and that he had candy in his other pants’ pocket for his daughter. Suddenly little George asked, What’s in the box, Pa? thinking that it might be another surprise. "Oh, nothing you need