He handed her the letter which informed him that if he did not leave San Saba in two days he would be filled so full of lead that it would require a freight train to haul him to the graveyard. Rhoda McDonald read the communication through. Then she said:
"Bill Jess, if you leave here on account of a thing like that, I'll leave you."
"Well," said Captain Bill, sorrowfully, "I seem to be in a mighty bad fix. If I stay, I'll be filled with bullets, and if I go, I'll lose my wife. I s'pose I'll have to stay."
The examining trial of Bill Ogle was an event in San Saba. Josh McCormick was chief witness for the State, and was a badly scared man, in spite of the fact that the Rangers had taken him to their camp and guaranteed him protection from the members of the Buzzard's Water Hole crowd. Other witnesses on both sides were frightened enough, for nobody knew what might happen before this thing ended. It was the program of the mob forces, of which Ogle and his lawyers were the acting principals, to impeach the State's witnesses and thus break down their evidence before the court, as was their custom. Unfortunately for them they selected as one of their perjurers old Jeff McCarthy, father of Brown's wife, himself accessory to the crime for which Ogle was being tried. Captain Bill knew of McCarthy's relation to the affair, though the evidence had not been sufficient for his indictment. Furthermore, Captain Bill believed that the old man, like McCormick, whose uncle he was, had been forced into the band, and had acted under compulsion throughout.
McCormick was placed on the stand, and told what he knew about the society and its crimes in general, and about the killing of Jim Brown in particular. His absolute knowledge did not extend to the connection of the two McCarthy's with the killing, and they were not mentioned in his evidence. When he left the stand, a number of nervous witnesses were called by the other side to swear that they would not believe him on oath. Finally old Jeff McCarthy was reached. He was frightened and trembling and in a wretched state altogether. Captain Bill watched him closely while he was making his statement concerning the worthless character of his nephew, McCormick, and the old man shifted and twisted to evade those eyes that were piercing his very soul. Now and then the Ranger Captain leaned toward him and lifted his finger like the index of fate, prompting the District Attorney meantime as to what questions to put to the witness. The old man became more and more confused and miserable, and when at last he was excused he tottered from the stand. He lingered about the place, however, seemingly unable to leave, and by and by, when court adjourned for the day, McDonald found him just outside the door, with others of his kind.
"Jeff," Captain Bill said in his calm drawl, "you did not tell the truth on the stand; you know every word you said was a lie."
Old Jeff McCarthy gasped, tried to get his words, gasped again and failed.
"I don't blame you so much," Captain Bill went on, "for you were afraid this mob would kill you if you didn't testify according to orders—now, wasn't you?"
Again the wretched old man made an effort to reply, but he was past speech.
Captain Bill's finger was pinning him fast.