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From Bill Bottorff website, article transcribed by Mary Ann Wortman (viewed Monday, March 1, 2010):

The Caldwell Journal, May 17, 1883

Killed By the Marshal

Spotted Horse is no more. He departed this life last Monday morning, at the hands of the city marshal, H. N. Brown. The manner of his death and the circumstances leading thereto are about as follows.
Spotted Horse was a Pawnee Indian, whose custom it was to make periodical visits to Caldwell with one or more of his squaws, bartering their persons to the lusts of two-legged white animals in whom the dog instinct prevailed. Last Friday or Saturday Spotted Horse drove into town in a two-horse wagon, with one of his squaws, and went into camp on a vacant lot between Main and Market streets. About half past six on Monday morning he walked into the Long Branch Restaurant with his squaw and wanted the proprietors to give them breakfast. This they refused to do, when he left and wandered around town, taking in the Moreland House, where he was given a sackful of cold meat and bread. From thence he and the squaw went over to E. H. Beals' house on Market street, north of Fifth. Mr. Beals and his family were just sitting down to breakfast when Spotted Horse and his squaw walked in without the least ceremony and demanded something to eat. Mr. Beals' wife and daughter were considerably alarmed, and the former ordered the Indians to leave. They went out and then Spotted Horse handed to the squaw the bundle of grub he had obtained at the Moreland, and walked back into the house, up to the table, and put his hand on Miss Beals' head. Mr. Beals immediately jumped to his feet and made signs for the Indian to go out, at the same time applying an opprobrious epithet to him. The Indian immediately pulled out his revolver, and Mr. Beals told him to get out and they would settle the trouble there. Spotted Horse put up his pistol and walked out, and Mr. Beals after him. Once outside, the Indian pulled his revolver again, and Mr. Beals seized a spade that was at hand. Just about this time Grant Harris ran up to the Indian and told him to go away, that he ought not to attack an old man. The Indian then opened out with a volley of abuse, directed to Mr. Beals, in good plain English. Young Harris finally induced him to put up his pistol and leave.
The next heard of Spotted Horse and his squaw was that they had walked into the back door of the Long Branch kitchen and helped themselves to breakfast. Louis Heironymous being the only one connected with the restaurant present in the building at the time, made no objections, and the two reds had a good feast.
It appears that after breakfast the squaw went to the wagon, while Spotted Horse strolled into Morris' grocery, one door north of the Long Branch. Meantime a complaint had been made to city marshal Brown in reference to the Indian's conduct at Beals' house, and the marshal had started out to hunt him up, finally finding him in Morris' grocery. The marshal approached Spotted Horse and requested him to go with him to Mr. Covington, in order that the latter might act as an interpreter. The Indian refused, when the marshal took hold of him. Spotted Horse didn't like that, and commenced to feel for his revolver. The marshal pulled his out and told the Indian to stop. On the latter refusing to do so, the marshal fired at him. In all, four shots were fired by the marshal, the last one striking the Indian about where the hair came down to his forehead, and came out at the back of his head. Parties who were present state that if the officer's last shot had failed, the Indian would have had the advantage, because he had just succeeded in drawing his revolver when the shot struck him.
The Indian was shortly after removed to the warehouse two doors north, where every attention was given him, but he died in about two hours without uttering a word, although he seemed to be conscious up to within a few moments before breathing his last.
Coroner Stevenson was telegraphed for and came down late in the afternoon, viewed the body, and held an inquest that night. On Tuesday morning, the jury brought in a verdict that the deceased came to his death by a gun shot wound in the hands of H. N. Brown, and that the shooting was done in the discharge of his duty as an officer of the law, and the verdict of the entire community is the same.
The squaw, we are told, upon hearing the first shot fired, hitched the horses to the wagon and drove off as fast as she could toward the Territory.