Cimarron Jack was a noted ranger and inexplicable man. While his whole conversation was a series of boastings and vaunts, while a more conceited man perhaps never breathed, he had one trait which was the very opposite, paradoxical as it may appear—he believed that others were as keen and shrewd as himself, and, when on the war-path, believed his enemy as bold and crafty as himself—the predominating trait of the shrewdest detectives in the world.
To describe him, his dress and manner, were a long and hard task. Closely-knit, six feet and three inches in hight, with the arm of a blacksmith, and the leg of a cassowary, he was a formidable enemy when aroused, and he was a man of iron nerve. Withal, he was at times as tender as a woman, and was always upright and honest.
Imagine a giant on a splendid bay stallion, with weapons of all sorts, sizes and nationalities slung about him; with red, green, blue, gray—in short, every color—feathers twisted into his clothing, long boots, painted in different colors—looking like an insane person—imagine this, and you are distantly acquainted with Cimarron Jack, the ranger, hunter and Indian-fighter.
“What do you want with the king-pin of all rifle-shots? Show me a star, and I’ll knock the twinkle out of it with a Number One buckshot.”
The party stared at him aghast. Never before had they seen such a fantastical braggadocio. Had they never before heard of him they would have deemed him a raving maniac, and would have given him a wide berth. But every one who was in that country at that time—184—, had heard of the far-famed Cimarron Jack.
“What do you want with the people’s favorite?” he demanded. “Come—the court is impatient.”
Joel Wheeler stepped forward and said: “Sir, we are—”
“Don’t ‘sir’ me!” interrupted the ranger. “I’m Cimarron Jack, and I’m the cock of the walk.”
“Well then, Cimarron Jack, my daughter strayed away last night and we fear she is lost—indeed, we are positive she is. The country is infested with Indians—”
“You can’t tell me any thing about Indians, for my education in that direction is finished. Hurrah! three genuine cheers and a tiger for the man that can’t be beat!”