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from Captain Bill McDonald, Texas Ranger: A Story of Frontier Reform by Albert Bigelow Paine — automated transcript, may contain recognition errors.

Chapter 25 of Captain Bill MacDonald, Texas Ranger, A Story of Frontier Reform. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Captain Bill MacDonald, Texas Ranger, A Story of Frontier Reform. by Albert Bigelow Payne. Chapter 25. A New Style in the Panhandle. Charles A. Culberson pays a tribute to Ranger Marksmanship, Captain Bill in a plug hat.

It was during the Panhandle period that Charles A. Culberson, son of the Dave Culberson who nearly 30 years before had cleared the boy, Bill Jess MacDonald, from a charge of treason, was Attorney General for the state of Texas. Captain Bill was at Quanna one day when he received notice from Culberson that the latter was anxious to locate the 100th Meridian, preliminary to beginning a suit against the United States to test the claim made by Texas

for Greer County, now a portion of Oklahoma. The Attorney General invited Captain Bill to accompany him as guide and bodyguard, knowing him to be familiar with the district and capable of taking care of such an expedition. They left the railroad at Vernon, Wilbarger County, proceeded in a buckboard to Doan's store on the Red River and crossed over into Greer County. It was a pleasant drive across the prairies, and Captain Bill, who felt in good practice, beguiled the

time by bringing down prairie dogs, running rabbits, sailing hawks, and the like, using his six-shooter with one hand and his Winchester with the other, riding along as they were, without stopping. To Culberson, this performance was amazing enough. Captain, he said, that beats anything I ever saw. Why, I believe you could throw a nickel up in the air and hit it before it touched the ground. McDonald smiled in his quiet way. Do you think so, he said. Well, I reckon I

might, but I wouldn't want to waste a nickel that way. Captain Bill then gave a few exhibitions of what he really could do in the way of shooting, and Culberson declared without hesitation that there was not such another marksman in the state of Texas. The Attorney General was enjoying himself immensely. They camped that night, and next morning were continuing their journey toward Mangum, the county seat of Greer, when they began to meet men and women on horseback,

evidently getting out of that section of the country without much waste of time. Captain Bill inquired the reason of this exodus, and was told that a cowboy had killed an Indian over on the North Fork of the Red, and that the Indians were getting on their war paint preparatory to making a raid, Comanches and Kiowas. General, said Captain Bill, I'll have to look into this thing.

you can go on to Mangum with the team and I'll get me a horse and go over there and take a hand in the trouble. Not at all, said Culberson. You've undertaken to see me through this trip and I'm not going to let you desert now. Indians are no Indians. But I've got to, General. This is a pleasure trip and that's business. Them devils are going to start something over there and it's my duty as a ranger to investigate it. Culberson laughed. Now, Captain, he said, you know very well that

all you want is to get over there where there's a chance to give a shooting exhibition. You've got tired of hawks and prairie dogs and want to try your hand on Indians. A new arrival just then furnished the information that the offending cowboy had been jailed at Mangum and that the Indians were likely to storm the jail. This settled the matter, for ranger duty and inclination now lay in the same direction. MacDonald and Culberson drove as rapidly as possible toward Mangum,

then about fifty miles away, changing horses once on the hard journey. The town was well nigh deserted, as nearly everyone who could get a gun was gone to the scene of the killing. Captain Bill, therefore, established himself as guard of the jail where the cowboy was confined and waited results. Nothing of consequence happened. The country quieted down. Culberson and Captain Bill presently returned to Quanah. But a few days later, when the Attorney General

had arrived in Austin, Captain Bill received a package by express, prepaid. On opening it, he was stupefied to find that it contained a plug hat of very fine quality it was the first silk hat in the panhandle where the soft wide-rimmed cowboy stetson predominated and it took more courage to wear it than to face an assault with intent to kill But Captain Bill was game. He was a brother-in-law to the church, as he said, his wife being a member, and the following Sunday he put on the silk hat and accompanied her to meeting.

Their seat was up near the front, only a step from the pulpit, a good thing for the minister, otherwise nobody would have looked in his direction. As it was, all eyes were aimed toward Captain Bill and his hat. The congregation had seen him come in with it in his hand, and they could still observe the wonder, for it would not do to put so fine a piece of property on the floor, while to set it toppling on his lap would be to court

disaster. It seemed necessary, therefore, to hold it in his hand, raised a little, and at a distance from his body in order that by no chance movement the marvelous gloss of it should be marred. The people of Quanna who attended church that day were glad to be there. They are still glad. They do not remember the sermon they heard, but they do remember that hat. Even the minister wandered from his text in his contemplation of that splendid exhibition. Those of Quanna who

remained away from service on that memorable Sunday have never entirely recovered from their regret, for it was their only opportunity ever to see Captain Bill in a plug hat. When services were over, the congregation crowded about for a nearer view. Cowboys stood up on the backs of the pews to look over the shoulders of those in front of them. Homesick women who remembered such things back east shed tears. Many wanted to touch the precious thing, to stroke its silken surface,

and among these were little children who insisted on rubbing the fur the wrong way. Captain Bill got out at last and headed for home. Once there, the gift of the Attorney General was reverently damned and laid away. Somewhere in a secret stronghold, deep buried from mortal eye, it exists to this hour. End of chapter 25. Read by Carrie Adams, your book voice, at Mesa, Arizona on the 22nd of February, 2022.

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