Mineola suddenly became a moral town. Amusements of the old sort languished. Drunk or sober, it was humiliating to flourish a gun, only to be suddenly disarmed and marched to the calaboose by a man who acted as if he thought he was gun-proof. It was hard to understand—it was supernatural. It was better to go to the next town to nourish the gun.
But by this time Deputy Bill Jess was not satisfied with the quiet life. He had found his proper vocation—that of active enforcement of the law—and he was moved to pursue it in remoter places. A certain desperate outlaw, a white man by the name of Jim Bean, had committed crimes in Smith County, whence he had escaped to Kansas. There he had killed a city marshal and returned once more to Smith County, which adjoins Wood on the south. The officers of Smith County had surprised Jim Bean and his brother Ed, at a small station where they had gone to rob some freight cars, but the two men had handled their revolvers so desperately that they had been allowed to escape, and pursuit of them had been abandoned.
This was the kind of game that Deputy Bill always enjoyed hunting. It was worth while. He made frequent still-hunts along the Sabine River, the dividing line between Wood and Smith, hoping to locate his quarry on the side of his jurisdiction. Perhaps the men knew of these excursions and remained safely, as they believed, on the other side. At last, however, the temptation to cross the line became too strong for a hunter like Bill Jess. The impulse of the Ranger was already upon him. He crossed the Sabine River into Smith, with his Winchester on his saddle, and became an official poacher. The river bottom was overgrown in places with tall cane-brake, and he had reason to believe that the Beans were hiding, and storing their loot, in the dense growth. He had heard a rumor, too, that a certain family of swamp-dwellers (negroes) were in league with the men, and, reflecting on the matter, he concluded to visit this house, both for the purpose of investigation, and to borrow a shot-gun, which he thought might be more useful, in a man-chase through a thick cane-brake swamp, than his rifle. Arriving at the suspected house, he told in his mildest manner a tale of a wounded deer not far away, and borrowed a shot-gun, as well as the information that the men and dogs of the place were in the brakes. He now began a careful still-hunt for his game, and presently came full upon Jim Bean, who was on a horse, with a shot-gun, guarding some stolen hogs. Bean was a great burly creature, more animal than man, from having lived and slept so long in the woods and brakes. He had been shot at many times, and had been desperately wounded, but such was his natural vitality, and so hardened was he by exposure that it seemed impossible to kill him.
Before Bean could move, now, Deputy McDonald had him covered and commanded him to get off his horse or he would shoot him dead. Bean obeyed and McDonald threw his own leg over his saddle and slid to the ground, still covering Bean with his gun. Suddenly Bean made a dash for a large tree, turning to shoot just as he reached this cover. McDonald was too quick, however, and let go with two loads of buckshot, which struck Bean in several places, knocking him down. He then made off in the direction of a slough, toward thick hiding. The shot-gun was a muzzle loader and before McDonald could get it charged again he heard somebody coming through the brush. It was Ed Bean and some negroes. He was ready for them by the time they came in sight, and throwing his gun to position he commanded them to halt. Instead of doing so they turned and disappeared in the direction from which they had come. McDonald now mounted his horse and started in pursuit of the wounded Jim Bean. He found where he had crossed the slough, and presently came to the desperado's gun, which had been thrown away in his hurry. Blood-stains made the trail easy to follow. Soon a powder-horn and then a pair of boots lay in the path of flight. McDonald followed six miles to a cabin occupied by negroes. Bean was not in the cabin, but barefoot prints led into the woods. The man-hunter followed them and finally overtook their owner. It was not Bean. The officer had been tricked—Bean had escaped while his pursuer had been following this false lead. It was dark, now, and further search was hopeless. Next morning the outlaws had vanished from the country. They never returned and were heard of no more until some time after, when news came from Wise County that both the Bean brothers had been killed, resisting arrest.
While this episode did not turn out altogether successfully, inasmuch as the game got away, it had a better result in that it effected a complete reconciliation between McDonald and his old, and what was to be his lifetime friend, James S. Hogg. Certain jealous officials were bent upon making trouble for the young deputy for overstepping his authority by working outside of his own county, and especially for shooting a man in attempting an illegal arrest. McDonald held that the conditions justified his act, and was going to make his fight on that ground. But it never came to a fight, for when the matter was brought to the notice of the grand jury, Hogg, by this time District Attorney, went before that body, and regardless of the old animosity between McDonald and himself, and of the fact that they were not yet on speaking terms, declared that if the jury found an indictment against the deputy for so worthy an undertaking as that which, irregular or not, had resulted in ridding the country of a gang of outlaws, he would nolle pros the case—in other words, he would refuse to prosecute.
When McDonald heard of this, he went to his old friend at once.
"Jim," he said, "you're a gentleman, and I know I want to act right. Let's not be enemies any more." And they never were.
Ten years later, Jim Hogg, as Governor of Texas, would make it possible for Bill McDonald to bring down criminals in any county of that mighty State. But this is further along in our story.