Tefertiller and others suggest that about half of I Married Wyatt Earp is based on a manuscript that never existed. Called the Clum manuscript, Boyer says now that it was lost years ago. But in its review, New Times found no evidence that the Clum was real, and Boyer's accounts of what had happened to the document were so conflicting they weren't credible.
New York Times contributor Allen Barra--like Tefertiller a journalist with a lifelong interest in the Earps--recently wrote that I Married Wyatt Earp "is now recognized by Earp researchers as a hoax."
Barra and Tefertiller both have new Wyatt Earp biographies of their own on bookstore shelves, and Boyer supporters complain the authors hope to increase sales by attacking Boyer.
Both say they simply want to cleanse the historical record of inaccuracies, something they say will be difficult to do because so many writers have been relying on Boyer for so long.
Western history professor Gary Roberts says future Earp researchers will be burdened with rooting out Boyer fact from Boyer myth. "By passing off his opinions and interpretations as primary sources, he has poisoned the record in a way that may take decades to clear," Roberts wrote in a recent article.
But Boyer says his critics are part of a years-long conspiracy by jealous inferiors to bring him down. He contends that they libel him regularly in the hopes that he will sue them. It's a transparent ploy, he asserts, to give them the excuse to subpoena the valuable documents in Boyer's vast collection of Earp research.
He offers a letter that he believes bolsters his point. On November 5, a few days after writing in the New York Times that Boyer's I Married Wyatt Earp is a hoax, Allen Barra wrote Boyer to say that he'd heard Boyer was thinking about a libel suit. Go ahead, Barra challenged: "Sooner or later you're going to screw up on your Web site and libel me--you've come close once--and I'm going to haul your butt into court and subpoena every document you own. And we both know that will put a quick end to your yarn spinning, to say nothing of your literary career, such as it is."
Boyer says he isn't stupid enough to let Barra or anyone else subpoena his valuable collection.
"Failing to get it, they took the next expedient and said I don't have those documents," Boyer says in his baritone, which carries an air of haughtiness and penetrates to the far corners of his cozy ranch family room. "And just in case I do have them, they say they're insignificant anyway. You can hardly play it any safer than that!" he exhorts with a great belly laugh.
Not satisfied with hammering his critics in a constant barrage on his Web site (www.histres.com), Boyer is preparing a full frontal attack to expose the conspiracy against him. He hands over a copy of the 120-page manuscript of his next book, titled "The Earp Curse," an unrelenting attack against his enemies, who persist in questioning Boyer's methods and motivations.
"I am sorry that I ever wrote a fucking word about Wyatt Earp. I will never do such a goddamn act of generosity for the public again. They killed the fucking goose that laid the golden egg. And if you don't think I know a lot here that I've never told," he says, pointing to his head, "guess again. But the fucking public today will never hear about it. And that's the reason."
"You got it, baby," says Coleman.
In 1955, Glenn Boyer's burgeoning interest in Wyatt Earp led him to write a letter to the man who at that time was the world's preeminent Earp biographer.
Stuart Lake had helped transform the territorial lawman into a legend with his 1931 book Wyatt Earp: Frontier Marshal, and Boyer hoped Lake might help him in his search for Earp material.
"For several years I have held a great interest in the life of Wyatt Earp," Boyer wrote. "My first acquaintance with his career came from reading your book, Frontier Marshal when I was a high school boy about 1939 or 1940. Since then whenever opportunity arose I have added small bits of information, but not in a methodical fashion."
When Boyer wrote the letter, his Air Force career had taken the 31-year-old to a post in Yuma. The proximity to such Earp sites as Tombstone made the young Captain Boyer itch to uncover new information in the Earp saga, particularly regarding Wyatt's later years, which writers had hardly touched.