Chapter XVII: "Captain of Company B, Ranger Force"

CAPTURE OF DAN AND BOB CAMPBELL. RECOMMENDATIONS FOR A RANGER CAPTAIN. GOVERNOR "JIM" HOGG APPOINTS HIS OLD FRIEND ON THE STRENGTH OF THEM

It will be seen from the foregoing, and from the chapters already published of these memoirs, that a man like Bill McDonald would be well qualified for Ranger service. Already he had been appointed a special Ranger in Company B., commanded by Captain S.A. McMurray, but his duties as U.S. Deputy Marshal, in No-man's Land and in the Cherokee Strip, had been his chief work. Nevertheless, he had, on occasion, engaged in bandit-hunting in his own State, during this period, either alone or in company with other officials, usually with good results. An instance of this kind was the capture of Dan and Bob Campbell which occurred about the time of his concluding the Cherokee Strip campaign.

With his wife, McDonald was on the way from Quanah to Fort Worth, when, at a switch now known as Iowa Park, they met a special, standing on a sidetrack, waiting for them to pass. It was the sort of train that is made up for an urgent purpose, consisting only of an engine and a single car, and McDonald recognized upon it the sheriff of Wichita Falls, also the marshal and others of a posse, evidently out for action. Upon inquiry, he learned that the Campbell boys, two well-known desperadoes of that time, were believed to be somewhere in the neighborhood, preparing to waylay a train. A good reward had been offered for the Campbells and the sheriff and his men were considerably moved. McDonald asked if they would like his assistance, and being assured that they would, sent word back to his wife by the conductor of the down train that he was going to catch some bad men, and boarding the special already impatient to start, took the back track toward Burke, a small station where the outlaws had been seen. When they reached there, it was McDonald's wish to procure horses and begin the search at that point, but the sheriff and his posse thought better to proceed to Harrold, some twenty miles further along, in which direction it was supposed the bandits had traveled.

Leaving word at Burke that they were to be notified in case of any fresh discoveries, the officers again boarded the special, and upon arriving at Harrold found a telegram that the outlaws had been seen entering a thicket not far from Burke. Horses, and a freight car in which to load them, were immediately secured, and the train was backed to Burke. Here the officials separated, the sheriff directing McDonald and the guide who had located the burglars, with a man selected from the posse, to go in one direction, while the sheriff with the remainder of the posse, took another course; the general plan being to round in on the thicket where the outlaws were supposed to be concealed. Arriving near the place, Deputy McDonald and the two men with him discovered two horses hitched in the brush--undoubtedly the mounts of the two Campbells. It was certain now that the quarry was near by, and the three men waited a little for the sheriff and his party to come up. It became evident, however, that their tactics were of a different sort. The posse was scattering out as if they were deer-hunting, taking stands at various distant and semi-distant points, evidently expecting McDonald and his companions to go in and start up the game. McDonald noticed now that his guide was not armed, and was therefore of no further service. Turning to his other companion, he said:

"I don't like this kind of performance. I'm in favor of charging straight in on them."

"He charged straight into the thicket, and suddenly found himself almost on top of them."]

His companion seemed to agree to this plan, and without further word Deputy Bill put spurs to his horse, charged straight into the thicket, and suddenly found himself almost on top of Dan and Bob Campbell. Without a breath of hesitation, he leaped to the ground, leveled at the former, who was already in the act of shooting, and commanded him to drop his gun. The order was obeyed; but Bob Campbell, who would seem to have been asleep, reached for his six-shooter, and though commanded not to touch it upon penalty of death, paid small attention to that order. He did not attempt to fire the weapon, but lay there on the ground with it raised, defying his would-be captor with language that was both violent and uncomplimentary. McDonald now suddenly realized that he was alone; that his companion had failed to join in the charge. Bob Campbell realized this too, and became momentarily more defiant. Then, all at once, help arrived. A dentist who had joined the sheriff's posse, had observed Deputy McDonald's single-handed charge, and now came bravely to his assistance. The Campbells both surrendered, then, for the posse was not far behind. They were taken to Wichita Falls, where the sheriff promptly claimed credit for the capture--also, the reward. Later, the Campbells broke jail, but were eventually recaptured, and served a long sentence.

Events of this sort kept Bill McDonald's name fresh in the Texas mind, and made him seem peculiarly eligible for regular service. The resignation of Captain S.A. McMurray, who had long and bravely commanded Company B became his opportunity, and he hurried to Austin to try for that command.

His old friend, James Hogg, was now governor of the State. Since the settlement of their differences so long before, there had been no discord of any kind, and each had admired the other's career, proud to remember the friendship. Arriving at the capital, McDonald was shown into the governor's room. Greeting him, he said:

"Well, I hardly know what to call you, since you got to be governor. I don't know whether to call you 'Jim' or 'Mister.' I'll have to call you 'Governor,' I guess, as I want to get a place."

They shook hands cordially. Governor Hogg said:

"What is it, Bill? What can I do for you?"

"Why," said McDonald, "I came down to get to be Ranger Captain--to take McMurray's place in Company B."

Hogg looked at him reprovingly.

"Why didn't you let me know sooner?" he said. "There are two other applications for the place; both from good men, with long petitions and fine endorsements."

The applicant for position forgot his old friend's title.

"Why, Jim," he said, "I never thought of it until a day or two ago. I didn't have time to get endorsements, but I can get 'em, if you want them. I have been working mostly in No-man's Land and the Territory lately, but have done work in Texas too, and I can get about any kind of endorsement you want."

Hogg laughed. He had a robust sense of humor.

"By gatlins!" he said, using his favorite expression. "That's all right, Bill, you have already got the best endorsement I ever saw."

McDonald looked puzzled.

"I don't understand," he said, "I didn't know anybody knew I wanted a place."

"All the same, you have got the endorsements," insisted Hogg.

He turned to his desk, and got out a bundle of letters.

"Look over these," he said. "You probably know some of the writers."

McDonald took the letters, and read them one after another. They were from well-known criminals, their lawyers, their friends and their associates. They had been received by Hogg while he was attorney-general, and each was a protest and a complaint against McDonald, declaring him to be a ruthless and tyrannical official, whose chief recreation was hounding good citizens for the sake of revenge or glory, enforcing laws that were not on the statute books, adding that it was not unusual for him to put the said citizen in jail, or in box-cars, declaring further that he sometimes hitched them to posts with chains, and that he was a menace to legitimate settlement and society in general.

McDonald looked over some of these documents, and grinned.

"That's so, Jim," he said, "I do put 'em in box-cars when there ain't a jail; the way I used to do back in Mineola--you recollect, when the jail was full--and I lariat 'em out with a chain and a post when there ain't a box-car handy; but I don't reckon they're innocent."

Hogg nodded.

"By gatlins! Those endorsements are good enough for me," he said. "They carry the flavor of conviction, I appoint you Ranger Captain on the strength of them."

McDonald returned to Quanah with his appointment as captain of "Company B, Frontier Battalion." The headquarters of the company were then at Amarillo, in the southern part of Potter County, near the Randall County line. This was almost the exact center of the Pan-handle, and in a locality sparsely settled, untamed, and lawless.

Since the early days of "Ranging" there had been not much change in Ranger regulations and equipment. The character of the work, however, had changed and the force had been reduced in numbers. Company B now consisted of only eight members all told. These were supposed to range over all that vast section known as the Pan-handle, and were subject to orders that might take them to any other portion of the State where their assistance was needed. The Rangers were peace-officers, their duty being to assist the local officers, rather than to take the initiative and predominate.[6] In the Pan-handle, however, and in many other portions of the State, the Rangers were obliged to lead, for the reason that the local officers were either incapable, indifferent, or incriminated, as we have already seen.

The Ranger camp at Amarillo--besides the eight men mentioned--consisted of tents, furnished by the State, a wagon and mule team, a hack, and two pack-mules. Each Ranger furnished his own horse and arms; the State paid for food and ammunition, also for transportation when necessary. In Company B were enrolled Sergeants J.M. Brittain and W.J. Sullivan; Privates John and Tom Platt, Jim Green, John Bracken and John Bishop; also somewhat later, W.J. McCauley--McDonald's nephew--a daring youth--then about eighteen years old, but a natural plainsman, dashing and fearless; an ideal Ranger.

Expeditions were always made with horses. When the distance was far, the horses and pack-mules were shipped to the nearest railway-point, sometimes by special train; an engine and car being secured for such excursions. This train would stop at any point required; the horses and pack-mules were jumped from the door of the car to the ground--sometimes a distance of several feet--and when the point of attack was close by, this wild little army would sweep across the prairie or through the bushes; the pack-mules, loaded with cooking utensils and tinware, often clattering ahead--riderless, but seeming to know by instinct where to go--braying, with tail in air, constituting an advance guard of reform. It would seem that such a charge might have given the alarm and frightened every outlaw within a radius of several miles; but as a matter of fact, these charges were generally planned and undertaken with great secrecy, and the sudden clamor of such an approach was likely to create an amazement which did not subside to the point of action before the time for escape had slipped by. Speaking of it afterwards, Captain McDonald said:

"That infernal racket seemed to jar the nerve of a criminal, for I never knew a pack-mule charge where the men we wanted seemed to have either spunk enough to put up a good fight or sense enough to get away."

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote 6: This came into dispute somewhat later and the Twenty-seventh Legislature passed an Act confirming what had always been their custom.]