In Tombstone,* Ariz., one of the toughest western mining camps of the '80s, it was only natural that the daily paper should be named the Epitaph. It was not because, as one old miner once cracked, newspapers, like epitaphs, are full of lies. On the contrary, the Epitaph gave such an accurate picture of the rootin'-tootin'-shootin' West that for years its files have proved a valuable source for historians.
The Epitaph at last gets its public due in Tombstone's Epitaph (University of New Mexico Press; $4.50), by Douglas D. Martin, onetime Pulitzer Prizewinner, ex-managing...