Deep in the rugged landscapes of southern Arizona lies Ruby, Arizona, renowned as one of the state’s most remarkably preserved ghost towns. This desolate site is steeped in a captivating, albeit dark, history marked by periods of intense mining activity, lawlessness, murder, and general mayhem. Though previously open for exploration, as of June 2024, the privately owned historic site of Ruby is no longer accessible to the public, adding to its mysterious allure.
The Genesis of Montana Camp and Ruby
The rich mineral deposits beneath Montana Peak were first noted by Spaniards in the 1700s, who conducted limited placer mining before moving on. Nearly a century later, in 1854, mining engineers Charles Poston and Henry Ehrenberg revived these old Spanish claims in Montana Gulch. Prospectors soon followed, unearthing significant veins of gold and silver. However, widespread mining efforts were initially hampered by the constant threat posed by the hostile Apache tribes inhabiting the region.
By the 1870s, new claims emerged, leading to the formation of a nascent settlement at the mountain’s base, christened “Montana Camp.” The discovery of lead, copper, and zinc further diversified the area’s mineral wealth, drawing more miners to this developing outpost.
The Ruby Mercantile and the Town’s Naming
The pivotal Ruby Mercantile first opened its doors in the late 1880s, established by George Cheney. A significant turning point arrived in 1891 with J. W. Bogan’s discovery of a large body of high-grade ore in the “Montana Mine,” hailed as a veritable “bonanza” with assays yielding eighty to ninety ounces of silver per ton. This ignited a fresh wave of prospectors flooding the region.
In 1897, Julius Andrews acquired the Ruby Mercantile. Over a decade later, in April 1912, Andrews successfully applied for a post office within the store. He named both the post office and, subsequently, the burgeoning town — Ruby — in honor of his wife, Lillie B. Ruby Andrews.
Early camp life in Ruby was far from glamorous. Miners often lived in basic tents or adobe huts, with the general store serving as their sole link to the outside world. While many relied on hunting, cattle rustling also became a common, albeit illegal, means of sustenance. Philip C. Clarke purchased the store from Andrews in 1914, constructing a larger, improved mercantile building further up the hill, the ruins of which stand today.
The Shadow of Lawlessness: The Fraser Murders
Ruby’s remote location and proximity to the Mexican border made it a hotbed of lawlessness. Attacks by Mexican bandits were a constant threat, so much so that Philip Clarke and his wife, Gypsy, kept weapons in every room of their store and home. Mr. Clarke, deeply concerned for his family’s safety, even insisted his wife travel to California to give birth to their son, Dan.
Despite its dangerous reputation, the Montana Mine began its first large-scale operation in 1915 after being leased by the Goldfield Consolidated Mines Company, quickly becoming a leading producer of lead. However, the town’s volatile environment persisted. Philip Clarke eventually moved his family to nearby Oro Blanco but continued to manage the Ruby Mercantile, accumulating substantial land and cattle holdings.
In 1920, Clarke sold the store to brothers John and Alexander Fraser, cautioning them about the prevalent Mexican bandits and urging them to remain well-armed. Tragically, these warnings proved insufficient. Less than two months later, on February 27, 1920, the Fraser brothers were found shot in the store. Alexander Fraser lay dead near the cash register, while his brother John, though critically wounded with a bullet through his left eye, succumbed to his injuries hours later without regaining consciousness.
Authorities discovered the telephone — the only one in Ruby — torn from the wall, its wires cut, and the store and post office robbed. Two sets of footprints and sightings of unknown Mexicans in the area suggested a connection to a reported cattle theft that same night. Despite a subsequent manhunt and the questioning of several suspects, no charges were filed. A local superstition, linking the mercantile’s location over an old padre’s grave to a curse, began to circulate among the Mexican community.
The Brutality Continues: The Pearson Family Tragedy
Undaunted by the recent murders and local superstitions, Frank Pearson purchased the Ruby Mercantile from the Fraser heirs. He, his wife Myrtle, and their four-year-old daughter Margaret moved in and reopened the store, dismissing warnings of danger. Less than a year later, the Pearsons would meet a similarly grim fate.
By this time, Ruby was nearly deserted, with the mercantile and post office serving as the last vestiges of the town. Their nearest neighbor was eight miles away. To alleviate the isolation, Myrtle’s sister Elizabeth Purcell and Frank’s sister Irene came to stay and assist with the store.
On the morning of August 26, 1921, while the Pearsons were on a horseback ride, they spotted seven vaqueros galloping towards Ruby and hastened back to the store. As Frank Pearson turned to retrieve tobacco for the demanding cowboys, shots rang out from behind him. Mortally wounded, he managed to fire three wild shots before collapsing dead.
The scene quickly devolved into horror. Irene Pearson, screaming, was pursued and dragged by her hair. When Myrtle screamed, attempting to intervene, one bandit brutally struck her head, shot her in the neck, and then, in a ghastly act, pried open her mouth to knock out her five gold-crowned teeth with his gun butt. Four-year-old Margaret, witnessing the atrocities, was pulled to safety under a couch by Irene. Elizabeth, attempting to retrieve Pearson’s shotgun, was shot and slumped behind the counter, fortunately only grazed. Another bullet was fired into Myrtle’s twitching body, ensuring her death.
The bandits then shot open the safe, stole valuables, helped themselves to store items, and, mirroring the Fraser murders, tore the telephone from the wall before escaping on fast horses.
Traumatized, Irene and Margaret revived Elizabeth, who had merely fainted. They made their perilous eight-mile journey to the nearest neighbor for help. Authorities arriving that evening were appalled by the sheer brutality: Frank Pearson shot in the back, and Myrtle Pearson with a fractured skull, a neck shot, a head shot, a broken jaw, and her gold teeth grotesquely missing. The similarities to the Fraser murders were striking, reinforcing suspicions that the same perpetrators were responsible.
The Manhunt and Justice
News of the horrific murders spread like wildfire, igniting fury across the region. Ranchers joined posses, and locals whispered about old Tio Pedro’s curse. In an unprecedented move for Arizona, an airplane was chartered from the Nogales army post to aid in the manhunt, marking the first time aerial surveillance was used in such a pursuit.
A substantial $5,000 “dead or alive” reward was posted for each of the seven outlaws, with Mexican authorities cooperating in the capture. Initial leads proved fruitless until April 1922, when an Arizona deputy in a Sasabe, Sonora cantina overheard a bartender selling five gold teeth. Recognizing their likely origin, the deputy purchased the teeth and traced them to Manuel Martinez, a known associate of Placido Silvas, who lived in the Oro Blanco district.
Silvas was quickly apprehended and identified by witnesses as one of the vaqueros present during the Pearson murders. His trial for Frank Pearson’s murder began on May 10, 1922. Meanwhile, Martinez was tracked down in the mountains and, under threat of lynching, confessed to his involvement. His confession led to the dismissal of Silvas’s initial jury, pending further evidence. Martinez, despite his confession, pleaded not guilty but was swiftly found guilty of first-degree murder by a jury in a mere 40 minutes on May 18, 1922.
Silvas’s trial recommenced, resulting in a hung jury and a new trial. A third trial for Silvas became the longest criminal trial in Santa Cruz County history, lasting 21 days before he, too, was found guilty of murder.
A Desperate Escape and Final Reckoning
On July 12, Manuel Martinez was sentenced to be hanged on August 18, 1922, while Placido Silvas received a life sentence. Judge W.A. O’Connor condemned their actions as “perhaps the cruelest ever committed in Arizona,” intending their punishment as a stark warning.
However, the drama was far from over. The following night, as Santa Cruz County Sheriff George White and Deputy L. A. Smith transported the prisoners to Florence State Prison, their car was found overturned near Continental, Arizona. White was dead, and Smith critically injured, both bludgeoned with a blood-stained wrench found nearby. The prisoners had escaped. Smith later died without regaining consciousness, making this a third double murder linked to the escapees.
Public outrage soared, leading to an unprecedented manhunt. Volunteer posses from four counties (Pinal, Pima, Cochise, and Santa Cruz) mobilized, forming a force of over 700 men scouring the desert. This became the most extensive manhunt in the history of the Southwest. After six days, a blood-stained file, believed to have been used to cut their handcuffs, was discovered. The lawmen resumed their relentless pursuit, finally cornering Martinez and Silvas, raving with thirst and exhaustion, hiding in the underbrush of the Tumacacori Mountains. The escapees had traversed over 70 miles of brutal terrain.
Both Martinez and Silvas were recaptured. Manuel Martinez was subsequently executed by hanging on August 18, 1922, as originally scheduled. Placido Silvas returned to prison to serve his life sentence, a stark reminder of Ruby’s brutal past.
Ruby’s Enduring Legacy: A Preserved Ghost Town
Following these tumultuous years, the Montana Mine continued intermittent operations, eventually closing for good in 1940. The town of Ruby, Arizona, slowly faded into a true ghost town, its buildings left to the elements but remarkably preserved. For decades, this fascinating site offered a tangible link to the Old West, drawing visitors eager to explore its storied past and photograph its dilapidated structures.
From its humble beginnings as Montana Camp to its transformation into a notorious mining town plagued by brutal crimes, Ruby, Arizona, remains a powerful testament to the harsh realities of frontier life. Though now closed to public access, its legacy as a vividly preserved ghost town, rich with tales of mineral wealth, desperate struggles, and chilling violence, continues to captivate the imagination and hold its place in Arizona’s storied history.
