Saint Mary's beacon. [volume] (Leonard Town, Md.) 1867-1983, 1896-02-20

zen. Yet all around us deviltry
was going on, and wherever we
didn't happen to be, right there was
trouble. One ranoher had a hun
dred yearlings stolen in one night.
Another had bunch Of ponies run
of. A lone storekeeper down near
the river had stood of a gang of
bandits in an all-,ight siege, with
the assistance of his half-grown
son and . chance visitor. The
storekeeper had ballet hole through
his jaw, bat he managed to remark
that .Them, Rangers il q hell of 4
protection Whena man talks the
way he did about us he means il for
sarcasm. OF conrse, these things
stirred as up nightly and made us
savage. We ran ourselves nearly
to death trying to get on the track
IF somebody that had done some
thing, but still our cartridges laid
all sound and bright down in the
magazines of our Winchesters. How
We did cuss and damn the country,
everything in it, then each other,
and how we painted to get a crack
at somebody, All we had to eat
was this high-seasoned, peppery
Mexican grub, and this, with the
aggravation, added 10 the general
holiness of our feelings. There were
signs that made me afraid that if
the boys didn't find something to
shoot at soon, they'd be taking a
turn ut each other, when, like a
Gods providence, news came up
the river that stopped all danger OF
civil war.
"A big gang Of raiders had just
driven q herd Of stolen cattle over
into Mexico some miles below.
They hadn't more than gotten
across when they were headed off by
the Mexican cavalry and driven
back to our side again without their
plunder. They scattered and were
reported to be struggling up this
side by t~os and threes. looking for
"a chance to get over home again.
As they came drifting mp through
the county we fattered ourselves we
would surely get some of them.
There wasn't much talk among us,
but there was heap of quiet good
feeling. We were on the alert, as
the newspapers say about the police
when the criminal hasn't been
caught yet.
1t was almost night but | sent
thres men to scout around and
watch the trails over along the river.
Early in the morning before day
break, the other two and myself
rode over to the Hernandez ranch,
a dozen miles to the southeast, keep
ing our eyes peeled as we went.
They were Pablin Coy and Fatty
Terrell. l think Fatty's front
name was Rigdon, but / amt sure.
We always called him Fatty
'0ld Rafael Hernandez was the
biggest land and cattle owner in
that whcla country. lie was a
Mexican, but a squarer, honester
man never lived, and he hated a
cattle thief like he did a snake. |
wanted TO tell him the news, to get
him to post all his line riders and
cow punchers to be on the lookout.
and especially to notice If any OF
the Mexican squatters through the
country had received any suspicious
additions to their families in the
shape Of able-bodied males. /
counted, too, on getting two or
three men from Hernandez who
knew the country well to come
along with us.
1T was a good, bright day when
we reached the Hernandez ranch
house. The house was a one-sto-
ried adobe, with low, thick walls
built around the four sides OF a
court. There were two entrances,
one on the east, the other on the
west. You could ride right in and
through to the courtyard on horse
back in the daytime, but at night
the doorways we're closed with big
heavy timbered doors. The out
side walls had but few windows and
these were very narrow and high
up. Old Hernandez had other
ideas than life of peace and quiet
when he built bis dwelling place.
We noticed as we rode up that
everything was strangely quiet, not
a soul in sight. The entrances
were open all right enough so we