Clad in a duster and broad-brimmed hat, a sawed-off shotgun over one shoulder, Wyatt Earp stands guard at the entrance to this dusty town that calls itself 'too tough to die'.
Since the famed 'gunfight at the O.K. Corral' in October 26, 1881, the famed frontier lawman has loomed large over this former boomtown.
The silver deposits that gave birth to the city have long since been played out, but Tombstone has survived largely by mining the legend of the West's most infamous shootout.
And in popular culture, the Earps have always been the good guys; the McLaurys and Clantons, the bad guys.
But sharp-eyed tourists may spot something subtle away from the action at the O.K. Corral.
Hanging on the stucco wall surrounding the little amphitheatre where the fusillade is re-enacted daily is a tiny bronze plaque.
Unpretentious and easy to miss, it is dedicated, not to the badge-wearing Earps or their tubercular friend, John Henry 'Doc' Holliday, but to the memory of brothers Frank and Tom McLaury - two of the three men who died that day.
Beneath oval portraits of the two is a short, but enigmatic epitaph: 'One owes respect to the living, but to the dead, one owes nothing but the truth.'
To movie-goers who thought they knew the real story of the O.K. Corral, the McLaury clan's message is unmistakable.
Pam Potter of Mountain Center, California, the brothers' great-grand-niece, says: 'The stars of the gunfight were the winners.'