But she had a woman's vanity, and she brooded over insults and taunts which a man would have ignored, and she sometimes risked her own safety and that of her followers to avenge a petty slight.
She once happened to be in a populous town near Austin, when she heard the local judge declare that he knew Belle Star by sight and that he would shortly arrest her, and have her publicly whipped before handing her over to the Lynchers. The girl brigand and the judge were actually seated next to one another at the table d'hôte dinner at the hotel when he said this.
Belle smiled at his delusion, but when he proceeded to speak of her in opprobrious terms and gave her credit for more crimes than murder and robbery her anger nearly led her into revealing her identity. But she maintained control of herself, and after a little reflection decided to wait until the following morning before punishing the boastful judge.
Next morning after breakfast—she had registered as a man, and, of course wore male clothes—she mounted her horse in front of the hotel, and then sent a servant to tell the judge that a stranger wished to speak to him. At this time of day everybody was at work, and the hotel staff were busy indoors and in the stables. When the judge appeared he and Belle were practically alone, as she knew, and without hesitating she blandly informed him that she was Belle Star, and then raised her whip and lashed him in the face.
The judge was so astounded that he was unable to escape her until she had lacerated him considerably, and, half blind and smarting from pain, his shrieks for help were unanswered until Belle had reached a place of safety.
It is a well-known fact that when a woman deliberately embraces crime as a profession she is generally more brutal and merciless than the average male criminal. It was so with Belle Star. The fair-haired girl with the sunny smile and the lovely lips could in cold blood sentence to death a young man whose only offence was that he had tried to defend his property and his life.
Belle, too, was in the habit of accepting her own suspicions as full proof. Once a well-laid scheme came to naught because at the last moment the owner of the shop that had been marked down for attack awoke to a realization of his danger and secured reinforcements. The outlaws were driven off, and Belle, savagely discontented and disappointed, came to the conclusion that her plans had been betrayed by a young farm hand who had been in her pay as a spy.
She, therefore, sent two of her followers to arrest him, but the suspect gave them no trouble, for he came willingly. Then Belle coldly told him of his offence. He swore he was innocent, but she cut him short by drawing her revolver and putting a bullet in his brain, and the gang buried the suspected traitor with as much nonchalance as they would have interred a dog.
It is impossible, however, to relate all her exploits. She personally led onslaughts on banks, stores, private houses, and public buildings.
She had a solution for every problem and a way out of every difficulty. When one of her men was arrested and was in imminent danger of death, Belle, finding that the judge could not be kidnapped, proceeded to make a prisoner of his wife, and the judge subsequently found a note pinned to his pillow, informing him that unless the captured outlaw was allowed to go free the lady would be murdered. He was given only twenty-four hours to save her, but, as the town was in a ferment over the excesses of the gang, the judge, guessing that he dare not acquit the prisoner, had to connive at his escape in order to prevent the murder of his wife. He had a bad time of it when his fellow-citizens heard how they had been cheated of their prey, and he was compelled to resign, but as his wife was returned safe and unharmed he was not sorry that he had placated the outlaw.