Outlaw in the Kitchen

David Henry Matthews was a leader in a small colony of Mormon Pioneers who settled in Arizona. He and his wife were known for their hospitality, and their home became a stopping place for many who came to or through what is now Pima, Arizona. At times the house was so full that Mrs. Matthews, who thought of others' comfort ahead of her own, would fill all the beds, the cots, and the kitchen floor by the fire, then go to sleep outside on a table that was used to butcher hogs in winter.
Arizona was frontier territory in those days, complete with cowboys and ranchers, horse thieves and gunmen.
Horses were stolen several times from the early pioneers, and they'd occasionally have to send to Utah for more stock. It was a frustrating business as horses were so necessary to the pioneers for their livelihood. Horse thieves were just about the worst kind of criminal, and any man caught stealing a horse could be executed.
During an early morning raid, one of these thieves was shot and fell injured from his horse. The men who dispersed the raid stood around him, arguing over what to do. They were religious men and not inclined to shoot him outright or give him a trial and hang him. They decided in the end that they would bind his injured foot, give him some water, and leave him in the desert in hopes that his friends would find him and take care of him.
It was then that David Henry Matthews rode up in his buckboard and asked the men for a report. They told him what had happened and what they intended to do. That didn't sit well with Bishop Matthews. "You put him out in the desert with a lame foot, and you might as well shoot him now. What would the Lord want you to do?" This shamed the men to silence. Bishop Matthews came down from his seat. "Help me put him in my wagon," he told the men. "I will take him to my house." A few of the men protested. This was a dangerous outlaw! How could he take him home? It might endanger his wife and his children. Bishop Matthews waved aside all their protests and insisted on taking the wounded man home, saying that his wife would want him to.
He was right. She doctored the man and set up a cot for him in the kitchen. He stayed there until he could walk again. Near the end of his stay, the Matthews asked him if he had any money. He told them he didn't have anything on him and that he couldn't possibly repay them for their kindness. The Matthews told him that he had misunderstood what they were asking. They wanted to make sure he had enough to get to wherever he needed to go. He had nothing. They gave him 20$ (worth a lot more then) and sent him on his way.
Horses still went missing around the Mormon colony, but if one of those belonging to the Matthews was ever gone, it was back the next day. The thief would occasionally stop at the Matthew's home for a night when the house was quiet. He'd leave before the sun rose and there was always a twenty dollar gold piece on the pillow.
The name of the thief, my grandma said, was Johnny Ringo.

I know how these stories change and become legends. Who knows for certain how much of this tale is true? Johnny Ringo was a big name outlaw in the Arizona territories and Texas. How much thievery is attributed to him by association? He became a popular western character for cinema in the 1960s. There has been a lot said about him. It could be true that it was him, though. The dates are right. It is recorded that Johnny Ringo failed to show up for a trial because a wounded foot kept him from traveling to the court.
Who knows?
Wish I did!