And the guns went up, with the quick, concerted movement of a drill. There was something in that total disregard of danger—in that tone and manner and in those eyes, now gray and hard and penetrating—that inspired awe and obedience. Captain Bill gave them no time to reflect.
"Now, where's Major Penrose?" he said.
The negroes became respectful, even deferential. One of them said: "Yes, suh, cap'n—yes, suh. Major Penrose is right over in his house—second building, suh."
"One of you niggers come and show him to me."
Captain Bill, it may be remembered, does not mince his words. A white man who has committed a crime is, to him, always a "scoundrel," or worse, openly. A black offender, to him, is not a negro, or a colored man, but a "nigger," usually with pictorial adjectives.
One of the men now hastily escorted the Ranger Captain and his sergeant to Major Penrose's headquarters. Major Blocksom, who already, perhaps, had seen enough to warrant his subsequent characterization of Captain Bill's willingness to "charge hell with a bucket of water," was on hand; also, District Attorney Kleiber. As the Captain entered, he said:
"I am Captain McDonald, of the State Rangers. I am here to investigate a very foul murder, which these men of yours have committed."
Major Penrose, rising, said:
"Come into my office."