"Now, Judge," said Captain Bill, "you know that the Buzzard Water Hole mob holds its meetingsover there once a month, and the monthly meeting is about due. You know that they meet there to decide to kill somebody or to run him out of the country and take his property, and that they've already done such deviltry as that here for years."
The judge assented uneasily.
"Well, then," continued the Ranger Captain, "I want to know if it will be all right for me to charge in there on that meeting with my Rangers and kill any of them that might make any resistance, and round up the rest and drive them into town and put them in jail—just drive them afoot like a lot of cattle and let their horses be sent for, later; would that be all right, Judge?"
The District Judge was a good deal disturbed.
"No, Captain," he said, "I don't think you'd better undertake that, I should advise against such a move."
"Well, Judge," said Captain Bill, "that's exactly what I propose to do. I'll take chances on the results and I'll bring in the prettiest bunch of murderers you'll find anywhere. Good-day, Judge, and thank you for the advice."
However, this program was not carried out—not in full. There was no material with which to make it complete. Within a brief time from his talk with the District Judge, Captain Bill's purpose was known to every member of the mob. It was a time to take to tall timber and high trees. The society adjournedsine die.
The Rangers did, however, visit the Buzzard's Water Hole at the time when the mob meeting was due. Not a soul was to be found anywhere. Then knowing certain members of the gang, and having learned the society signals, Captain Bill and his men went riding over the country from house to house, halting outside to call "Hello!—--Hello! Hello!" which was a signal call between members of the society. In reply to each such call a door opened and a man came out quickly, only to find the Rangers, who inquired if he were going to attend the meeting at Buzzard's Water Hole; whereupon, as Captain Bill put it later, "they like to died," and vigorously pretended ignorance of the meaning of the "Hello" signal. Next morning the Rangers were back in San Saba, and when the news came in that they had been around calling on mob members there was not only anxiety, but mystery, for some of these members of the society lived a distance of twenty-five miles away. But a fifty or seventy-five mile ride in a night on an errand of that kind was merely a little diversion, to a Ranger.
The grand jury's work was difficult. It found indictments against many of the assassins, but the district judge made an effort to annul most of these actions on one ground and another, and to trump up charges against the Rangers. McDonald finally gave this official a lecture which he probably remembers yet, if he is alive. About the same time one of the gang leveled a Winchester at Ranger Barker,who with his revolver shot him five times before he could pull the trigger, and was promptly cleared—all of which had a wholesome effect on the community as a whole.
With the arrest of Ogle, the anonymous letters became very terrible indeed. Captain Bill had brought his wife to the San Saba camp for the winter, and one morning appeared before her with one of these letters in his hand.
"Well, I've got to leave San Saba," he said.
"Why," she asked. "Has the Governor ordered you away?"
"No, the Governor hasn't, but read this."
He handed her the letter which informed him that if he did not leave San Saba in two days he would be filled so full of lead that it would require a freight train to haul him to the graveyard. Rhoda McDonald read the communication through. Then she said:
"Bill Jess, if you leave here on account of a thing like that,I'llleaveyou."
"Well," said Captain Bill, sorrowfully, "I seem to be in a mighty bad fix. If I stay, I'll be filled with bullets, and if I go, I'll lose my wife. I s'pose I'll have to stay."
The examining trial of Bill Ogle was an event in San Saba. Josh McCormick was chief witness for the State, and was a badly scared man, in spite of the fact that the Rangers had taken him to their camp and guaranteed him protection from the members of the Buzzard's Water Hole crowd. Other witnesses on both sides were frightened enough, for nobody knew what might happen before this thing ended. It was the program of the mob forces, of which Ogle and his lawyers were the acting principals, to impeach the State's witnesses and thus break down their evidence before the court, as was their custom. Unfortunately for them they selected as one of their perjurers old Jeff McCarthy, father of Brown's wife, himself accessory to the crime for which Ogle was being tried. Captain Bill knew of McCarthy's relation to the affair, though the evidence had not been sufficient for his indictment. Furthermore, Captain Bill believed that the old man, like McCormick, whose uncle he was, had been forced into the band, and had acted under compulsion throughout.
McCormick was placed on the stand, and told what he knew about the society and its crimes in general, and about the killing of Jim Brown in particular. His absolute knowledge did not extend to the connection of the two McCarthy's with the killing, and they were not mentioned in his evidence. When he left the stand, a number of nervous witnesses were called by the other side to swear that they would not believe him on oath. Finally old Jeff McCarthy was reached. He was frightened and trembling and in a wretched state altogether. Captain Bill watched him closely while he was making his statement concerning the worthless characterof his nephew, McCormick, and the old man shifted and twisted to evade those eyes that were piercing his very soul. Now and then the Ranger Captain leaned toward him and lifted his finger like the index of fate, prompting the District Attorney meantime as to what questions to put to the witness. The old man became more and more confused and miserable, and when at last he was excused he tottered from the stand. He lingered about the place, however, seemingly unable to leave, and by and by, when court adjourned for the day, McDonald found him just outside the door, with others of his kind.
"Jeff," Captain Bill said in his calm drawl, "you did not tell the truth on the stand; you know every word you said was a lie."
Old Jeff McCarthy gasped, tried to get his words, gasped again and failed.
"I don't blame you so much," Captain Bill went on, "for you were afraid this mob would kill you if you didn't testify according to orders—now, wasn't you?"
Again the wretched old man made an effort to reply, but he was past speech.
Captain Bill's finger was pinning him fast.
"They frightened you and made you join their gang, didn't they? And now you would like to get out, but you don't know how—ain't that so?"
The old man was on the verge of utter collapse. He backed off and slunk away. After that Old Jeff haunted the Ranger Camp and finally when hecould stand it no longer made full confession to Captain Bill of his connection with the mob, revealing the mob's secrets, its signs and passwords, the names of its members and its gruesome oath.
"They will kill me," he said, "but I don't care. I'm happier now than I've been for years!"
"I don't reckon they'll try that," said Captain Bill. "That thing's about over, around here."
They formed a guard, and escorted the old man home, for he was full of fear.
When the court of examination adjourned, Ogle was held without bail. Through the efforts of District Attorney Lynden it was decided to transfer Ogle's case to Llano County for final trial, Lynden making his fight for this change on the grounds that no fair trial could be obtained in the San Saba court.
In Llano County, Ogle's case was fairly tried, and he received a life sentence. Two accessories to the killing of Brown, were arrested, but just then war was declared with Spain; the Rangers were hastily ordered off to protect the Rio Grande frontier, where a Mexican incursion was expected, and without Captain Bill to keep up the vigorous action, and a sharp oversight on the witness stand, convictions were not obtainable.
However, the San Saba campaign was a success. The society that murdered men for spite, or gain, or pastime, no longer existed. When the next election of county officials came around the old lot was wiped out clean, and men of character and probitycame into power. The roads that led to the Bad Lands were kept dusty with the emigration of men who had formerly gathered at Buzzard's Water Hole, and in their stead came those who would give to San Saba nobler enterprise and worthier fame. Eight Rangers were among the new blood that came to rehabilitate San Saba County. That long winter of '97-98 had not been altogether spent in chasing criminals. These eight had found wives, or rumors of wives; in due time they were all married, and with eight established resident Rangers, how could any county help becoming as serene and safe as a Sunday-school? Ranger Edgar Neil was elected sheriff; Ollie Perry was chosen constable; Dud Barker, Ed. Donnelly, Forest Edwards and Bob McClure also settled in San Saba, and caused Company B to go recruiting for Rangers.
Bill Ogle is still in the Penitentiary at Huntsville, Texas. As late as May, 1908, he wrote to Captain McDonald as follows:
"Huntsville, Texas, 5/21/08."Capt. W.J. McDonald,"Austin, Texas."Dear Sir:"It has come to my ears from some of my friends, who have recently visited Austin in my behalf, that you are bitterly opposed to my being released from the Penitentiary. I regret very much that you are taking this stand against me. My friends also told me that one of your reasons of being in opposition to my release was, that you had fears of your own life, should I be pardoned."Capt. McDonald, I want to assure you that I have no feeling of bitterness against you, and you may rest assured, that I would never harm you in the least or try to injure you in any way, should I regain my liberty. I feel that in doing what you did, you were doing your duty as an officer."My conduct in the Penitentiary ought to be a guarantee to you of my intention to lead a correct life, when I get out, and I feel, that if you will investigate my standing here, and find out what the officers here think about me, you will be convinced of this."I trust that you will reconsider this matter, and soften your heart in my case, and you may rest assured, that I will appreciate anything you will do for me as long as life shall last."I would be pleased to hear from you, and I hope that you will give me some little encouragement."Thanking you in advance for anything you may say or do for me, I am,"Yours respectfully,"Will Ogle."
"Huntsville, Texas, 5/21/08."Capt. W.J. McDonald,"Austin, Texas."Dear Sir:
"It has come to my ears from some of my friends, who have recently visited Austin in my behalf, that you are bitterly opposed to my being released from the Penitentiary. I regret very much that you are taking this stand against me. My friends also told me that one of your reasons of being in opposition to my release was, that you had fears of your own life, should I be pardoned.
"Capt. McDonald, I want to assure you that I have no feeling of bitterness against you, and you may rest assured, that I would never harm you in the least or try to injure you in any way, should I regain my liberty. I feel that in doing what you did, you were doing your duty as an officer.
"My conduct in the Penitentiary ought to be a guarantee to you of my intention to lead a correct life, when I get out, and I feel, that if you will investigate my standing here, and find out what the officers here think about me, you will be convinced of this.
"I trust that you will reconsider this matter, and soften your heart in my case, and you may rest assured, that I will appreciate anything you will do for me as long as life shall last.
"I would be pleased to hear from you, and I hope that you will give me some little encouragement.
"Thanking you in advance for anything you may say or do for me, I am,
"Yours respectfully,"Will Ogle."
Captain McDonald's reply to Ogle's letter was, in part, as follows:
"Austin, Texas, June 4, 1908."Mr. Bill Ogle,"Huntsville, Penitentiary."Dear Sir:"Your letter of the 21st inst. received, and contents duly and carefully noted."I note what you say in regard to what your friends say about my opposing your pardon, claiming that in case of your release I had fears of myown life. Now, Bill, ... my advice to you is to make a clear truthful statement, giving all the facts connected with numerous murders committed by this mob, and thereby secure your liberty."You know I'm not in the Ranger service now, and it makes no difference to me who is released, and I so notified the Board of Pardons."You say you have no feeling of bitterness against me, and that you would not attempt to harm me. You can rest assured that I have no fears in that line. I only did my duty as an officer, as you say I did, and I have no animosity against you; and would not have gone before the Board of Pardons, had I not been sent for."I understand your conduct has been all right while in jail, and in the Penitentiary, and I am sorry that your conduct wasn't better before you got into that mob, because you know that was an awful thing. Now, don't you?"You asked me to consider this matter, and that you will appreciate it as long as life shall last. I certainly will not utter any protest, unless the Governor asks me what I know about it, and I'll then tell the truth about it."Very respectfully,W.J. McDonald."
"Austin, Texas, June 4, 1908."Mr. Bill Ogle,"Huntsville, Penitentiary."Dear Sir:
"Your letter of the 21st inst. received, and contents duly and carefully noted.
"I note what you say in regard to what your friends say about my opposing your pardon, claiming that in case of your release I had fears of myown life. Now, Bill, ... my advice to you is to make a clear truthful statement, giving all the facts connected with numerous murders committed by this mob, and thereby secure your liberty.
"You know I'm not in the Ranger service now, and it makes no difference to me who is released, and I so notified the Board of Pardons.
"You say you have no feeling of bitterness against me, and that you would not attempt to harm me. You can rest assured that I have no fears in that line. I only did my duty as an officer, as you say I did, and I have no animosity against you; and would not have gone before the Board of Pardons, had I not been sent for.
"I understand your conduct has been all right while in jail, and in the Penitentiary, and I am sorry that your conduct wasn't better before you got into that mob, because you know that was an awful thing. Now, don't you?
"You asked me to consider this matter, and that you will appreciate it as long as life shall last. I certainly will not utter any protest, unless the Governor asks me what I know about it, and I'll then tell the truth about it.
"Very respectfully,W.J. McDonald."
What Captain Bill had said before the Board of Pardons was:
"I don't know the gentleman that is presenting this petition and making this talk to you, but I do know the names of a good many of those signers, and I know Bill Ogle is guilty of this murder, and I know that a good many of these other fellows ought to be where Bill is now."
"I don't know the gentleman that is presenting this petition and making this talk to you, but I do know the names of a good many of those signers, and I know Bill Ogle is guilty of this murder, and I know that a good many of these other fellows ought to be where Bill is now."
XXX
Quieting a Texas Feud
THE REECE-TOWNSEND TROUBLE, AND HOW THE FACTIONS WERE ONCE DISMISSED BY CAPTAIN MCDONALD
Asthe old century drew near its end, a wave of disorder and crime that amounted to an inundation swept over the eastern and south-eastern portion of Texas. Murders, lynchings, mobs and rumors of mobs, were reported daily. The Pan-handle, even in its palmiest days, had been a Young Men's Christian Association as compared with the older, more thickly settled portions of the State. In the Pan-handle, crime was likely to be of a primitive, elemental kind-the sort of crime that flourished in the old, old days when the Patriarchs pastured their flocks on a hundred hills and protected them with a club.
In the long-settled districts to the eastward, crime had ripened, as it were, and manifested itself in more finished forms. Feuds had developed, and race prejudice. Communities had been established which found it necessary to hang their only respectable citizens in order to preserve peace. In other places old ladies, supposed to have a few hundred dollars, were murdered by relatives who could not wait for them to die. These are the things that comeonly with long settlement, and where certain human impulses have been carefully bred and nourished.
The Reece-Townsend feud in Colorado County gave the State no end of trouble. The Reece and Townsend families killed one another in the regulation way, when good opportunities offered. They had a fashion of gathering in the streets of Columbus, the county seat, for their demonstrations, and sometimes on a field-day like that they killed members of other families, by mistake. But errors of this sort were not allowed to interfere with the central idea of the feud; they apologized and went on killing one another, just the same.
It was when a boy who belonged to neither faction was shot and killed, at one of these reunions, that Captain Bill McDonald and his Rangers were ordered to Columbus to put down what seemed about to become a general war.
Captain Bill failed to receive the order in time to get his men the same day, but did not wait. He wired two to follow him on first train and set out for Columbus alone. Arriving on the streets of Columbus he saw detachments of armed men gathered here and there—the streets being otherwise deserted. He set out at once for the home of District Judge Kennon to whom he had been ordered to report. After the exchange of greetings, McDonald said:
"We haven't much time, Judge, from appearances. I saw a lot of armed men as I came along, and it looks like we're going to have war."
"You are right," Judge Kennon said, "we are expecting it any minute. Where are your men, and how many have you?"
"None, Judge. I came alone, but I expect two in the morning."
"In the morning! Why, man, by that time the fight will be over! And what can you do with two men here? Nothing less than twenty-five or thirty will help this case."
"Judge," said Captain Bill, in his deliberate way, "I believe I can stop this thing if you will come down to the court-house with me. Anyhow, it's my duty to try; and we'd better be getting over there, now, Judge, for this ain't going to wait long. If we can't stop it we can see a mighty good fight, anyhow."
They set out together. The court-house in Columbus stands in the middle of a big square, with a street on each of its four sides. On one corner of the square, was gathered the Reece faction, and near another corner the Townsend crowd had assembled. Both were fully armed. They were making no active demonstrations as yet, but were evidently organizing for business. It was a still, sunny summer day, and both crowds were in easy calling distance of the court-house.
"Now, Judge," said Captain Bill, when they hadarrived at the court-house, "who is your sheriff, and where is he."
"His name is Burford, J.C. Burford, and he's over there with the Townsend crowd. He belongs to that faction."
Captain Bill stepped to the window and called in the strong official manner of a witness summons: "J.C. Burford," repeated three times.
There was a movement in the Townsend crowd and a man crossed over and ascended the court-house stair. McDonald introduced himself, as the sheriff entered, and added:
"Now, Mr. Burford, why don't you stop this row? Looks as if we're going to have a killing match here, right away."
"Captain, I can't. I'm powerless to do anything with these men. If I undertake to disarm them, it will start a fight that nobody can stop."
"Well, Burford, if you'll do as I tell you, I'll stop it in thirty minutes or I'll resign my job as Ranger."
"All right, Captain, I'll do whatever you say," assented Burford.
"Then call your crowd over here. I want to talk to them."
Sheriff Burford stepped to the window and signed to the Townsend faction. They trooped over and ascended the court-house stair, carrying their guns.
"Mr. Burford," said McDonald, "which are your regular deputies here?"
The sheriff indicated his three deputy officers.Captain Bill motioned them to stand apart from the others.
"Now, Sheriff," he said, "disarm the rest of these men."
The officer looked a little bewildered.
"I don't know about that," he began.
"Didn't you agree to do what I ordered?" Then, to Kennon—"Didn't he, Judge?"
The judge nodded. The sheriff still hesitated.
"Never mind," said McDonald, "I'll do it myself. Here, boys," he went on in his mild friendly drawl, "come in here and stack your guns in this wardrobe. It's a good safe place for them. They won't be likely to go off and hurt anybody, in there."
What was it about the manner of the man that made men obey? Those aroused, bloodthirsty Texans, full of an old deep hatred and the spirit of revenge, marched in and put away their guns at his direction, with scarcely a word of dissent.
"I don't blame you-all for having your guns until now," Captain Bill went on, as he locked the wardrobe and took the key. "But we want to stop this war if we can. It ain't good for the population. Now, I'll just go over and look after the other crowd."
He went out of the court-house, and crossed the street to where the Reece crowd was gathered. He carried his Winchester and the faction watched him curiously as he approached.
"I guess you boys are going to war, ain't you?" he said cheerfully as he came nearer.
Nobody replied, and Captain Bill came up close.
"Boys," he said, "your guns are all right, up till now, but the Governor has sent me down here to stop this trouble, and I want you-all to help me."
"How can we help you?" asked one of the Reece faction.
"Like them boys did over yonder, just now—by giving up your guns. Then by going quietly home."
There was a little murmur of dissent and one big husky fellow said:
"Well, you'll play hell getting my gun!"
In less than an instant, a Winchester was under his nose and Captain Bill was crisply saying:
"I will, hey? Well I'll just put you in jail, anyway, to show you how easy it is to dothat."
The big fellow gave a great jump and nearly fell over with surprise and fright. His gun dropped as if it had been hot. The leader of the Reece faction spoke up quickly.
"Boys, he is right," he said. "The Governor sent him here, and he's obeying orders. He has no interest in one side or the other."
McDonald marched the Reeces over to a store, nearby, where they laid down their guns, and the clerk was ordered to take charge of them. The big man under arrest promised all manner of things if Captain Bill would let him go. He was set free, with a warning. Peace now seemed to be restored, andin the general gratitude of the community, refreshments and invitations were tendered to Captain Bill from both sides. He decided, however, to remain on duty during the rest of the day and night. His two men arrived next morning, but everything was still quiet, and there appeared no sign of a renewal of hostilities. The Reece-Townsend trouble, for the time, at least, was over.[10]
FOOTNOTES:[10]Report of Adjutant-General Thomas Scurry of Texas (1899):"During the month of March, 1899, Captain McDonald and two men were ordered to Columbus, Colorado County, for the purpose of preventing trouble between the Townsend and Reece factions. Captain McDonald went alone, his men not being able to reach him in time, and his courage and cool behavior prevented a conflict between the two factions." For fuller official details of this and other work of that period, see Appendix B.
FOOTNOTES:
[10]Report of Adjutant-General Thomas Scurry of Texas (1899):"During the month of March, 1899, Captain McDonald and two men were ordered to Columbus, Colorado County, for the purpose of preventing trouble between the Townsend and Reece factions. Captain McDonald went alone, his men not being able to reach him in time, and his courage and cool behavior prevented a conflict between the two factions." For fuller official details of this and other work of that period, see Appendix B.
[10]Report of Adjutant-General Thomas Scurry of Texas (1899):
"During the month of March, 1899, Captain McDonald and two men were ordered to Columbus, Colorado County, for the purpose of preventing trouble between the Townsend and Reece factions. Captain McDonald went alone, his men not being able to reach him in time, and his courage and cool behavior prevented a conflict between the two factions." For fuller official details of this and other work of that period, see Appendix B.
XXXI
The Trans-cedar Mystery
THE LYNCHING OF THE HUMPHREYS AND WHAT HAPPENED TO THE LYNCHERS
Captain McDonaldwas still at Columbus when he received a telegram ordering him to report at once to Assistant Attorney General Morris and the local officials at Athens, Henderson County, Texas, for the purpose of investigating the lynching of three respectable citizens—a father and two sons, named Humphrey—in a timbered tract between Trinity River and Cedar Creek, known as the Trans-cedar Bottoms.
Henderson County is in East Texas, and the Trans-cedar Bottoms constitute just the locality and neighborhood for a murder of the Humphrey kind. Shut-in, thickly timbered and lonely—it is a place for low morals to become lower with each generation—for scant intellect to become scantier—for darkened minds to become darker and more impervious to pity, indeed to any human impulse except crime.
The Humphreys had not fitted an environment like that. They were honest, sturdy men—fearless and open in their dealings. They were a menace to a gang who made moonshine whisky, stole whateverthey could lay hands on and would swear a man's life away for a lean hog. It was necessary for the welfare of the neighborhood that the Humphreys be disposed of, and they were taken by a mob one night and hanged—three of them to one tree—they having been placed upon horses and the horses driven from under them. Then, when the ropes had proven too long, and the feet of the three Humphreys had touched the ground, the mob had bent back the legs of the victims at the knee and tied the feet upward to the hands, so that the Humphreys might swing clear.
Bill McDonald knew something of the Trans-cedar country, and the character of its settlement, for, as we have seen in a former chapter, he had passed his youth and his early manhood at Henderson and at Mineola, both within seventy-five miles of that very district. He set out alone by first train, and arriving at Athens, learned the details of the ghastly crime which already, through the telegraphed reports, had stirred the entire State. He learned that the lynching had taken place about twenty-five miles from Athens, near a little post-office named Aley, and he hurried to that place, without delay, taking with him one Guy Green, an Athens lawyer, familiar with the neighborhood. With Green, the Ranger went straight to the scene of the murder and made an examination of the tracks and various clues that remained. Two days had passed since the crime, and many of the signs had beenobliterated. Still there were enough for a man with the faculties of Captain Bill. He identified no less than four trails—one, as he decided, made by five horses; another by three; a third by two, and a fourth the track of a single horse. The trails wound in and out, crossed and recrossed, and were evidently made with the idea of balking pursuit. Captain McDonald did not consider them especially difficult, and having satisfied himself that they could be followed, he went on to Aley, for it was near nightfall.
At Aley he joined Assistant Attorney General Ned Morris; District Attorney Jerry Crook; Tom Bell, sheriff of Bell County, and Ben. E. Cabell, sheriff of Dallas County, who had come over to aid the investigation. He was assured that the work was going to be hard—that the greater portion of the inhabitants were either in sympathy with the lynchers or were so much in terror of them that it would be almost impossible to get direct evidence. Captain Bill looked thoughtful as he listened.
"Well," he said, "I'm going to stay here till I get it, and I'm going after it just like I was going for a doctor. You can give it out that I mean business and that nobody need to be afraid to testify. I'll take care of them."
He discussed the case with the officials and learned that one Joe Wilkerson was suspected as having been connected with the murder—it being well-known that Wilkerson had pursued the Humphreysand bemeaned them; finally accusing them of stealing hogs, and swearing to some meat which the Humphreys had earned by digging wells. In the evidence it had developed that the Wilkerson hogs, though mortgaged by him, had in reality been sold, and that he had thus attempted to evade the consequences of this illegal act by saddling the Humphreys with a still heavier crime. The Humphreys had not been convicted, but Wilkerson had never ceased to vilify them. Later, one of the Humphrey boys, George, had been set upon by some of the Wilkerson crowd and in defending himself had killed, with a knife, one of his assailants. The courts—there were honest courts in Athens—had cleared him, but in the Trans-cedar tribunal he had been doomed. These facts constituted about all the foundation of known motive upon which McDonald would have to build his evidence. It was while he was discussing these things with the attorneys on the night of his arrival that a man rode up to the gate just outside and called his name. Captain Bill rose, but the others protested, declaring that it might be a plot to shoot him in the dark. However, he went, six-shooter in hand, and sticking it in the face of the caller, demanded his business. The man protested that he meant no harm, but had come from one Buck Holley, who lived two miles down the road and said he knew Captain McDonald and wanted to see him. The Ranger Captain reflected a minute.
"I don't know any Buck Holley," he said. "Iknew a scoundrel by the name of Bill Holley some years ago up in the Pan-handle, and if that is who it is I don't want to see him. I judge you fellows have got a gang down the road there to shoot me from ambush. Who are you, anyway?"
The man said his name was Monasco; that he was staying at Holley's and that he had a brother named Bill Monasco, in Amarillo.
"I know Bill Monasco," McDonald said, "and he has a brother that was sent to the penitentiary. Is that you?"
The visitor acknowledged that he was the man—that he had been recently released.
"Well," said McDonald, "that's about the kind of a crowd that I would expect to find Bill Holley running with, and you can tell thisBuckHolley, as you call him, that I suspect him of being connected with this mob, and that I used to make him stand hitched in the Pan-handle, and that I'm going to do the same here."
Monasco said "good-night," and Captain McDonald never saw him again. Somewhat later, when he met Bill Holley on the streets of Athens, he said:
"Look here, Bill, I'm afraid your partner, Monasco, didn't tell you the message I sent the night I came. I said I didn't know Buck Holley, but that I knew a sorry bulldozing scoundrel by the name of Bill Holley, and that I supposed he was down the road there to take a shot at me from ambush. You weren't in this lynching mob, I reckon, but they'reyour friends, and you'd help 'em if you could. Now, Bill, you've been courting a funeral a good while, and if you try any of your nonsense here, you'll win out."
He searched Holley for weapons and relieved him of a big pocket-knife, the bully protesting that he was no longer a bad man. Captain Bill learned, however, that he had recently whipped his wife, taken her clothes and driven her away from home, and later had attempted to kill her father for interfering in her behalf.
The Ranger Captain was out early the morning after his arrival in Aley, and on the trail. The tracks of the five horses were followed to the houses of Joe Wilkerson and his tenant, and to the homes of John and Arthur Greenhaw. In Wilkerson's lot the officers found part of a well-rope, the remainder of which had been cut away. It matched precisely with the rope used to hang the Humphreys—the freshly cut ends being the same on both. The Wilkersons and one of the Greenhaws were taken into custody forthwith, and other arrests followed, as the criminals were tracked home.
But it was hard to get evidence. A few who were anxious to testify, hesitated through fear. Others, subpœnaed and examined, were evidently in sympathy with the mob and withheld their knowledge accordingly. Captain Bill had been reinforced by Private Olds from Company C, and now began systematic investigation. He established his court ofinquiry under a brush arbor—a framework of poles, with brush a-top to keep out the sun—and there for two months held high inquisition. It was a curious, exclusive court. The Ranger Captain gave it out that he would invite such attendance as he needed, and that mere spectators would kindly remain away. His wishes were heeded.
Little by little evidence collected. Men willing to testify gained confidence from Captain Bill's assurance of protection and told what they knew. Men unwilling to testify found themselves unable to hide their facts where they could not be reached by the keen persuasive probing of the man with those ferret eyes, that quiet voice and those alert extended ears. The testimony brought out the facts the Humphreys had known of an illicit still run by two men—one Polk Weeks and a man named Johns. Also that they had known of John Greenhaw stealing cattle and hogs, and that John Greenhaw had once drawn a gun on the elder Humphrey, who had taken it away from him, unloaded and returned it, instead of killing him with it and rendering the community a service. These things, added to the other provocations already named, had made the Humphreys sufficiently unpopular in a neighborhood like the Trans-cedar Bottoms to warrant their being hung to a limb, trussed up to swing clear of the ground.
In the course of time, practically every resident of that district had been before the brush-arborcourt of inquiry, and if a shorthand report had been taken of that testimony it would have furnished material for many a character study and tale of fiction.
Guilty knowledge of the crime actually killed a man named Eli Sparks, whose conscience tortured him day and night to the point of giving testimony, yet whose fears upon the witness stand caused him to withhold the truth. He was a large red-faced man, evidently greatly excited when questioned, and concealing more than he told. Soon after his first examination he met Captain McDonald and offered to testify again, saying that he had been too frightened to tell the truth, the first time, but thought he could do better, now. The Ranger Captain scrutinized him keenly and made the prophecy that Eli Sparks would not live thirty days, unless he got rid of the load on his conscience. He died in just half that time; not, however, until he had fully confessed a complete knowledge of the details of preparation for the crime, and how once he had gone with the mob when they had intended hanging the Humphreys, but for some reason had postponed the event. The poor wretch did not go the second time, but his guilt nevertheless dragged him to the grave.
Another who came to the brush-arbor inquiry was a banker who testified that the Humphreys had received their just deserts for the reason that they were thieves and should have been hung long before.
"How didyoucome to escape, then?" asked McDonald. "I understand that you were once indicted for cattle-stealing yourself, and that you actually got the cattle. Is that so?"
Under severe pressure the witness admitted that there had been such a charge and that the cattle had by some means got into his possession. He got away at last and disappeared out of the case entirely, though he had been active up to that point.
The efforts of the men believed to be concerned as principals in the crime, to establish their innocence, were sometimes wary, sometimes crudely absurd, and always fruitless. The mesh of fact that was weaving and linking itself about them became daily more tightly woven, more impossible to tear away. Knowing themselves closely watched, they dared not attempt flight. To do so would be to confess guilt, and capture would be well-nigh certain. Like Ahab, having compassed the death of a neighbor, they "lay in sackcloth and went softly." Finally it came to pass that three of these "children of Belial" turned State's evidence—that is, they confessed fully, sacrificing their comrades, under the law, to save themselves. Eleven men, including these three, were brought to trial.
Yet, conviction was not easy, in spite of the direct character of the evidence. The accused men employed lawyers who were ready to balk at no methods that would save their clients, and there were plenty of witnesses willing to testify as instructed. Efforts were also made to influence and coerce the State'switnesses, and McDonald found it necessary to threaten certain counsel for the defense with subornation proceedings, before he could get the way clear for action. Even then it was thought advisable to transfer the cases to Palestine, in the adjoining county, for trial—sentiment in the neighborhood of Athens being regarded as too favorable to the accused. In the final trial John and Arthur Greenhaw and Polk Weeks, who were not only murderers, but cowardly traitors, were given their freedom in exchange for their evidence that sent their eight associates to the Penitentiary for life.
Polk Weeks, in giving his evidence, appeared much disturbed, but confessed how he had climbed the tree and tied the ropes, and tied them too long, making it necessary for the legs of the Humphreys to be bent upwards, to clear the ground. John Greenhaw corroborated this, but grinned as he told it, remembering how amusing it had been. He did not live to enjoy his freedom, for he was shot soon after his discharge by a son of one of the murdered Humphreys—young Willie Humphrey, who was never punished for that righteous act.[11]
FOOTNOTES:[11]Extract from a letter relating to the Humphrey case, written by Assistant Attorney General N.B. Morris to Adjutant-General Thos. Scurry; included in the latter's Annual Report for 1899-1900."You will remember that at the request of the sheriff, county attorney, and other local authorities of that county, Captain McDonald and Private Old were sent to assist them and myself in the investigation of that horrible murder which was then enshrouded in a mystery that it seemed almost impossible to uncover. Before the Rangers reached us the people in the neighborhood seemed afraid to talk. They said they would be murdered, too, if they took a hand in working up the case. About the first thing that Captain McDonald did was to assure the people that he and his associates had come to stay until every murderer was arrested and convicted, and that those who assisted him would be protected. They believed him, and in consequence thereof, soon began to talk and feel that the law would be vindicated, and I am glad to say that it was. The work of the Rangers in this one case is worth more to the State, in my opinion, than your department will cost during your administration. In fact such service cannot be valued in dollars and cents."[12]
FOOTNOTES:
[11]Extract from a letter relating to the Humphrey case, written by Assistant Attorney General N.B. Morris to Adjutant-General Thos. Scurry; included in the latter's Annual Report for 1899-1900."You will remember that at the request of the sheriff, county attorney, and other local authorities of that county, Captain McDonald and Private Old were sent to assist them and myself in the investigation of that horrible murder which was then enshrouded in a mystery that it seemed almost impossible to uncover. Before the Rangers reached us the people in the neighborhood seemed afraid to talk. They said they would be murdered, too, if they took a hand in working up the case. About the first thing that Captain McDonald did was to assure the people that he and his associates had come to stay until every murderer was arrested and convicted, and that those who assisted him would be protected. They believed him, and in consequence thereof, soon began to talk and feel that the law would be vindicated, and I am glad to say that it was. The work of the Rangers in this one case is worth more to the State, in my opinion, than your department will cost during your administration. In fact such service cannot be valued in dollars and cents."[12]
[11]Extract from a letter relating to the Humphrey case, written by Assistant Attorney General N.B. Morris to Adjutant-General Thos. Scurry; included in the latter's Annual Report for 1899-1900.
"You will remember that at the request of the sheriff, county attorney, and other local authorities of that county, Captain McDonald and Private Old were sent to assist them and myself in the investigation of that horrible murder which was then enshrouded in a mystery that it seemed almost impossible to uncover. Before the Rangers reached us the people in the neighborhood seemed afraid to talk. They said they would be murdered, too, if they took a hand in working up the case. About the first thing that Captain McDonald did was to assure the people that he and his associates had come to stay until every murderer was arrested and convicted, and that those who assisted him would be protected. They believed him, and in consequence thereof, soon began to talk and feel that the law would be vindicated, and I am glad to say that it was. The work of the Rangers in this one case is worth more to the State, in my opinion, than your department will cost during your administration. In fact such service cannot be valued in dollars and cents."[12]
[12]For further official details of this and other work of that period, see Appendix B.
[12]For further official details of this and other work of that period, see Appendix B.
XXXII
Other Mobs and Riots
RANGERS AT ORANGE AND AT PORT ARTHUR. FIVE AGAINST FOUR HUNDRED
A riotat Orange, Texas, followed the Trans-cedar episode. Orange is a lumber town on the Sabine River in the extreme south-east portion of Texas, and many negroes are employed in the sawmills. A white mob composed of the tougher element in and about the city had organized, with the purpose of driving the negroes away. The negroes received anonymous warnings, and as they did not go immediately, were assaulted. Some twenty or more of the mob, one dark night, surrounded a house where a number of the colored men were assembled and opened fire, killing one man and wounding several others. Ranger Captain Rogers of Company E, with his men, was ordered to Orange, but soonafter his arrival, while making an arrest among desperate characters, was disabled through injury to an old wound. Captain McDonald then came down from Athens with Rangers Fuller, Jones, Old, McCauley, Saxon and Bell. They lost no time in taking a firm grip on the situation and landed twenty-one of the offenders in jail, with evidence sufficient to convict. But it was a hard profitless work. Whatever the citizens might want, Orange officially did not care for law and order. A gang controlled the law of the community, and the order took care of itself. Private Fuller found it necessary to kill one man who interfered with an arrest and attempted to use a knife. Later, Fuller was summoned to Orange, ostensibly to answer to the charge of illegal arrest, but in reality for purposes of revenge. Captain McDonald protested to the Governor that it was simply an excuse to get Fuller over there to kill him.
It turned out accordingly: Fuller was washing his face in a barber shop when the dead man's brother slipped up behind and shot him through the head with a Winchester, killing him instantly. The assassin was made chief deputy sheriff, as a reward, and in due time was himself killed by the city marshal, who, in turn, was killed by the dead man's family; which process of extermination has probably continued to this day, and perhaps Orange has improved accordingly. There was room for improvement. The cases against the twenty-one menarrested by Captain Bill and his Rangers were all dismissed, as soon as the Rangers got out of town.[13]
Port Arthur, also on the Sabine River, below Orange, is a city of oil refineries, and is a port of entry, as its name implies, its outlet being through Sabine Pass. In March, 1902, trouble broke out there between the longshoremen and the operators of the refineries. As a result the longshoremen struck, and when the operators introduced Mexican laborers, the strikers, numbering about four hundred, drove them away and issued a manifesto, declaring that no more Mexicans need apply.
It was at this stage of the proceedings that Captain Bill was ordered by Adjutant-General Scurry to take several men and be on hand when the next Mexicans arrived. He took four—Privates Grude Brittain, Jim Keeton, John Blanton and Blaze Delling—picked men—and arrived on the ground a day in advance of the next hundred Mexicans, then on the way.
The Rangers proceeded immediately to the refineries, which are located several miles from the city, and saw nothing of the longshoremen that day. It was likely they would be on hand next morning when the Mexicans would arrive. Threats had been made that these Mexicans would not be allowed to leave the train for the refineries, and that if any such attempt was made, blood would flow.
When the train pulled in next morning Captain Bill and his men were on hand, fully expecting trouble. Everything was quiet, and the Mexicans were marched by the "Rangers to the refineries and went immediately to work. Then, there still being no sign of interference, Captain Bill said:
"Well, boys, let's go down in town now and see what's become of the mob."
The mob was not hard to find. It had assembled on the street and was a good deal excited. Men were talking, and gesticulating, and denouncing, in words noisy and violent. As Captain Bill and his men drew up, a voice loud enough for them to hear said:
"There are them damned Rangers, now."
The little company of five continued to advance until within easy talking distance; then McDonald said:
"What are you men doing here, gathered in a crowd this way, on the street?"
A longshoreman asked:
"Are you the Rangers?"
"That's what we are," said Captain Bill.
"Come down to protect the Mexicans, I guess."
"That's what the Adjutant-General sent us for," returned Captain Bill pleasantly.
"Well, we're not going to let them work."
"They're already working," smiled Captain Bill.
"How many men did you bring with you?" asked the leader of the rioters.
"Enough to whip this crowd, if a fight is what you're looking for," Captain Bill answered—still pleasant.
"Where are they?"
"Here," said Captain Bill, indicating his brigade of four—five with himself.
"Hell!" said the leader of the longshoremen, "there are four hundred of us."
"Well, that makes it just about even," drawled Captain Bill, more pleasant than ever, "if you think you want to fight, get at it!"
The leader of the strikers looked at the little army thoughtfully. Then he turned to the others.
"Boys," he said, "I think these Rangers are all right. Let's all have a drink!"
The Rangers politely declined this invitation, but continued on friendly terms with the strikers. There was no further trouble, and a few days later Captain McDonald and one of his men left Port Arthur. The remainder of his force stayed a few weeks longer, but the war was over.