Still no word from the governor and adjutant general. That they were being bombarded with telegrams and protests, and that every influence was being brought to bear, the Captain did not doubt. Yet he did not wholly lose faith. He believed that in the end the governor would stand by what had been done and support him in the position he had taken. He left a part of his force to keep watch on the entrance of the fort, and went in to supper. When he had finished, he came outside to take his turn at standing guard. Presently he saw a body of armed men approaching. There appeared to be forty or fifty of them, most of them dressed in khaki, and in the dusk he at first took them to be soldiers. Then as they drew nearer, he discovered that they were led by Judge Welch, District Attorney Kleiber, and the Mexican sheriff, who for the first time was taking an active part in the Brownsville drama—having previously been safely locked up in his own jail. Viewed at this distance of time and space, how silly it seems that those officials, knowing Bill McDonald, as all Texas knew him, could have hoped to frighten him with a nondescript muster like that. They drew their posse—Mexican riff-raff—up in front of the hotel. Judge Welch asked:
"Where's Captain McDonald?"
Captain Bill himself came forward.
"What's the trouble, now, judge?" he said. "Looks like you're going to war, with all these armed men."
"I've come for those warrants," said Welch. "I've got an order for them."
"All right, Judge; you don't need an army, if you've got an order from the proper authorities. Come in here by the light, where I can see it."
So they went in, followed by the Mexican sheriff and his khaki muster, and all the other crowd that could get in—all the citizens and guests of the hotel; the drummers and ranchmen and tourists—they all pushed and elbowed in until the hotel lobby was full and the balcony around the court was crowded (and there were ladies on the balcony), a fine audience indeed for this, the closing scene. Everybody was inside that could get in, now, and the room grew quiet. In the center of the lobby, in a little group, were the chief actors. The Ranger Captain and his sergeant stood together, their automatic guns, as usual, in position for quick and easy service. They made a picturesque pair, with their typical Texas hats, and arms, and dress, and their determined faces. Judge Welch facing them, fumbled a little and produced his order.
Captain Bill held it to the light. It ran as follows:
"To Captain William J. McDonald, Company B, Ranger Force, Brownsville, Texas.
"You are hereby directed and required to immediately turn over the warrants for the twelve soldiers and one ex-soldier, delivered to you for the arrest of these men, without any further attempt at execution of the same.
"Signed, Stanley Welch, Dist. Judge,
"39th Dist. State of Tex."