While stationed at Quanah, Texas, I was notified one evening by Colonel Rush that Dock James, alias Dock Mayes, a noted horse thief, was camping near Quanah, and that he was stealing cattle and horses throughout that part of the country.
Colonel Rush had just arrived in Quanah on the train from Colorado City. He told me that he had two herds of cattle, near Quanah, that had been driven in from Colorado City by his hands.
As Mayes was wanted in seven counties, I thought I had better make good work of him; so I took Frank Hofer, a Ranger, and Bob Collier, a deputy sheriff, and started after this cattle thief. I at once went north with them to Groesbeck River, about five miles out of town, where I found a herd of cattle. I asked the man who had charge of the cattle if that herd belonged to Colonel Rush. He replied that they did not; that Rush’s herd was south of the Fort Worth & Denver road; so I bade him goodbye and started south.
When I got to the railroad I met two ladies in a buggy going west up the track. I looked around, and about five miles south of the track I saw the herd, but, I was satisfied that these ladies were going up the track to another herd, and, thinking that the cattle west of us were Rush’s, I plead with Bob Collier to go with me, and we would follow the ladies. I was afraid that the ladies would inform Mayes that the officers were around, and told Bob that that was why I wanted to go up the track then, but Bob was hardheaded and would not go with us; so we turned and ran our horses to the herd that was directly south of us, and made the five miles in a little while.
When I reached the herd I saw a man sitting on a big black horse. I asked him if this was Colonel Rush’s herd, and he said, “No, Rush’s herd is at Quanah at the railroad tank watering.” I knew that was a lie, for I had not been away from Quanah more than three-quarters of an hour, as I had been riding fast all the time.
I rode around the herd and asked one of the hands, a Mexican, if he could tell me where either one of Colonel Rush’s herds was. In reply, he pointed west, the direction in which the two ladies were going, and said, “Yonder is the herd on that high divide about five miles from here.” Then I was somewhat vexed, when I remembered that Bob would not consent to us following the buggy a little while before.
Although our horses were hot and tired, I told Bob and Frank to put theirs beside mine and we would run them over to the other herd. I told Bob that since he had acted such a fool, and caused this trouble, I would make him kill that horse of his; so we laid the steel to our horses and pulled for that other five-mile heat.
We had arrived within three-quarters of a mile from Mayes’ camp and the herders had failed to see us, as we were in a flat covered with mesquite timber, and they were at the top of a hill, right on the divide.
The two ladies, whom we had seen going up the track, had reported to them that we were coming. A man, calling himself Jackson, was sent at once to the wagon at their camp to inform Mayes that we were coming, but he did not get to deliver his message. As we were nearing the divide, Jackson ran his horse into us at full speed. I stopped him and asked him where he was going. He replied that he was going to camp to change horses. I told him that his horse didn’t seem to be very tired from the way he was moving out. I then put him under arrest and told him to tell me the truth.
“I want a fellow,” I said, “by the name of Dock James, alias Dock Mayes, and don’t you tell me anything but the truth. Is he with the herd, or is he at camp?”
He replied that he was at the camp.
I asked him how far it was to the camp.
He said it was about a mile and a half.
I then told him to put his horse beside mine and take me the nearest way to camp.
When I got within eight hundred yards of their camp, I saw the same man whom I had met sitting on the black horse at the other herd, five miles away. He was the one who had told me such a story about Bush’s cattle being in Quanah, watering at the railroad tank. He, also, had a message to deliver to Mayes about us, and had run his horse fast enough to beat us a minute or two, but too late to give Mayes sufficient time to get away. We saw him rush up to the wagon and tell Mayes that we were coming. Mayes sprang up and in a stooping position went in a trot to his saddle, about thirty yards away, and pulled his Winchester out of the scabbard. The man on the black horse immediately put spurs to his steed and left for his herd. When I saw Mayes making for his Winchester I thought I could rush in and get him before he reached it. I had no more use for Jackson, so I told Bob and Frank, both, to follow me and let him go. I then spurred my horse up and went straight for Mayes, with Bob following me. Bob, however, had told Frank to stay behind and guard Jackson, which was not my wish, and Frank did what Bob had requested him to do.
Bob stayed with me about three hundred yards, and then dropped behind, and when I had gotten within two hundred yards of Mayes, I heard him (Bob) yelling at me to hold up. I had gone too far by this time to turn back; so I paid no attention to Bob, but kept jerking “cat hair” out of my horse’s sides.
When I had gotten within sixty yards of the wagon, Mayes yelled to me that he would kill me if I crowded him any more. About that time my horse became frightened at some blankets hanging out on a mesquite bush, and commenced jumping a thousand ways a second; but I kept pulling for the wagon. Mayes had gotten behind the wagon, and was at this time sitting by the wheels with his Winchester at his shoulder. When I saw him and remembered his reputation as a fine shot and a dangerous man, I said to myself, “I am a dead man.” I jumped my horse over the wagon tongue, which placed me within six feet of Mayes. I sat my horse down, and pointed my gun at Mayes and told him to surrender. He said he would. I ordered him to throw his Winchester on the ground, which he did. I searched him for his six-shooter, and picked his Winchester up. About that time, Bob Collier, the deputy sheriff, came up.
Mayes asked me why I crowded him as I did. “If I had had my Winchester loaded,” he said, “you would have been in hell right now. This is the first time in fourteen years that the magazine of my rifle has ever been empty.”
I asked him how it came to be empty then.
He replied that one of the boys had gone out to shoot rabbits a little while before that, and emptied the magazine and had forgotten to reload it.
Then I asked him if his name was Mayes, and he replied that it was.
I asked him if “James” would not suit him better; but he only smiled.
I then asked him if he had a horse.
He replied that he had a little old sore-back cow pony.
About that time Frank Hofer came up, bringing Jackson with him. I scolded Frank a little bit about staying with Jackson instead of coming with me as I had requested him to.
I told Jackson to go with Frank and get Mayes’ horse, which he did, returning in a few minutes. I found that Mayes had lied. His “little sore-back cow pony” was a thoroughbred racehorse, and as pretty as a peach.
I handcuffed Mayes and took his bridle reins. Then I tied a rope around his animal’s neck and wrapped the other end around the horn of my saddle, and let Mayes mount his horse. After we started off Mayes asked me to let him have the reins, as his horse traveled so badly when he did not have reins in his hands. I had a suspicion that he intended to attempt to make his escape, so I did not grant his request.
I put him in the county jail at Quanah. He was wanted at Weatherford for horse theft. He was sentenced to the penitentiary for nine years; was tried again in Colorado City, and sentenced for an additional nine years. He was wanted in five more counties, but did not answer for the other charges. After serving six years of his term of nine years, he was pardoned out of the penitentiary by Governor Culberson.
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