TX BIOS:  Fleetwood Hale, Texas Ranger
   Selected and converted.American Memory, Library of Congress.
   
   Washington, 1994.
   
   Preceding element provides place and date of transcription only.
   
   This transcription intended to be 99.95% accurate.
   
   For more information about this text and this American Memory
   collection, refer to accompanying matter.
   
   U.S. Work Projects Administration, Federal Writers' Project (Folklore
   Project, Life Histories, 1936-39); Manuscript Division, Library of
   Congress.Copyright status not determined.
   
   0001
   
   [Not?] FOLKLORE [?] RANGELORE
   
   [RUSTLER'S AMUSCADE?]
   
   By
   
   [alter?] Fleetwood Hale
   
   As told to Sara Lacy
   
   I enlisted as a [tate?] Ranger in 1932 and served until the end of
   Mrs. Ferguson's term in 1935. I was in Company A, stationed at Marfa,
   out in the Big Bend Country, a private at the time. My captain was J.
   [?] Vaughan, and out territory extended from the [DEL: [?] :DEL] Pecos
   [River?] to the Mexico-Texas state line.
   
   One morning Captain Vaughan ordered Bob [?] and me out to investigate
   some reports from ranchers who claimed that they had recently lost a
   large number of [?] of stock. Bob was to go by Presidio and I by
   Candelaria. [We?] were to meet at Valentine that night.
   
   When I got to Valentine, Sim [Weatherly?] and his son Harper, drove up
   in a model-A pickup Ford. Sim said he lived on the Y-6 Ranch, owned by
   a man named [?], in Palo Pinto Canyon about thirteen miles from the
   river. He said he was glad to see me because he needed an officer at
   his place. Someone had stolen 700 head of goats from his place the
   night before. The fence had been cut and the goats driven off.
   
   He said he had a good idea who had done it. Adjoining his ranch was
   land owned by the Prieto family.
   
     NOTE: C12 - 2/11/41 - Texas
     
   00022Their brickwall adobe house overlooked the road through the
   canyon, the only road to Weatherbys. The Prietos had consistently
   fought the Weatherby's for years, because they wanted to buy
   Weatherby's place and Weatherby refused.
   
   The Weatherby ranch was admirably located for bootleggers and dope
   runners to use as an entrance to Texas. Whispers along the border
   connected the Prietos with such activities but we had been unable to
   catch them in anything. We did know that they were pretty anxious to
   get hold of Weatherby's land.
   
   I told Sim that I'd be glad to go with them and track down the
   rustlers; but that I was on another assignment and had no authority to
   handle anything else. I promised, however, to report the case as soon
   as I got back to headquarters.
   
   Sim and his son drove off. Somehow I had an uneasy feeling all
   evening, and when Bob came in, we sat around talking for a spell as
   night came on.
   
   Suddenly, we saw a car coming in going like a bat out of hell. [It?]
   pulled up at our lodging, and stopped.
   
   Sim and Harper got out. They were out of breath and seemed pretty
   excited.
   
   We've been ambushed," Sim shouted pointing to bullet holes through the
   top and body of the car. 00033"Just as we started by the Prieto
   place," Harper broke in, "someone opened up on us. We thought they'd
   get us sure. But we got the car turned around and beat it back."
   
   "Officer," said Sim, solemnly, "those pelates are out to get us. Can't
   you help us out?" he pled.
   
   Bob and I swiftly strapped on our guns, for we knew that there was
   more to the matter than appeared on the surface.
   
   At that time the government of Presidio County was almost entirely in
   the hands of Mexican officials. Often when we jailed suspects, they
   would be on the streets before we got to town. It was evident to us
   that unless we acted quickly, the Prietos would murder Weatherby and
   his son and the state laws would never touch them.
   
   We climbed into the Weatherby car and bumped over the county road.
   Soon we entered Pinto Canyon. The vertical pointed walls cast long
   shadows on the road. We drove to within a mile of the Prieto place,
   cut our motor, and entered.
   
   The wind sighed through the eroded canyon walls, now [DEL: [?] :DEL]
   moaning, now rattling like the [DEL: breath's :DEL] breath of a dying
   man. A coyote mourned somewhere down wind. But only the faint night
   sounds close at hand came to our ears. 00044Cautiously we approached
   the house. There was no light. Motioning Weatherby to the right corner
   of the house, Bob to the left, and Harper to the rear, I stealthly
   approached the door.
   
   There was no sound within the house, my knuckles crashed against the
   door breaking the silence and almost startling me with the clamor.
   
   A faint light showed under the door.
   
   "Quien es?" called a soft Latin voice.
   
   "Hale of the State Ranger Force, "I called, "Open up."
   
   Within there was a hurried conference in Spanish, [DEL: interspirsed
   :DEL] interspersed with silibant hisses whenever a voice was raised. I
   heard the voices, but could distinguish none of the words.
   
   "Open up," I called again. "I want to talk to you fellows."
   
   Again there was silence. Then suddenly the light went out and in the
   next second, the door was flung wide open. Despite the darkness of the
   night, I made out Gregorio Prieto standing just within the doorway and
   peering around.
   
   Abruptly the fire from a shotgun blazed through the night. Instinctly,
   I dropped to the grounds seeing as I fell, that Prieto had also
   fallen, and someone had dragged him into the house. I heard a bolt
   drawn across the door before I moved.
   
   Retreating to the right corner of the house, I saw Sim reloading his
   shotgun. We talked for a few minutes and I told 00055him and Bob to
   keep the door covered, and I'd try to talk the men inside the house
   into coming out peacefully.
   
   Again I went to the door, and began talking to the men in the house. I
   begged them to surrender, to take the wounded man to town to a doctor.
   I promised them kind treatment if they would come out of the house
   with their hands up. But I got no answers.
   
   Within the house, I could hear someone pacing from one room to
   another. Back and forth he walked, stopping [DEL: [?] :DEL]
   occasionally, now coming near the front of the house, now retreating.
   
   In a flash it dawned on me what the footsteps meant. Someone was
   peering out one window, and then another, in hopes of discovering
   where I stood and where the men with me were. They were waiting for a
   chance to shoot.
   
   Beckoning to Weatherby and Burl to follow me, I retreated across the
   road. We sat down on a pile of rocks and talked for a few minutes.
   
   "Boys," I said, "we'll never get them like this. The walls of that
   house must be a foot and a half thick. Now, I'll tell you what let s
   do. Weatherby and I will keep watch while Burl goes into town and gets
   Charlie."
   
   Charlie was my regular partner and I had worked with him before. I was
   afraid to tackle the job with Weatherby and Burl because I did not
   know what kind of fighters they were. 00066But I knew that Charlie
   Curry was true blue and could think as fast as any man living.
   
   Burl departed. Weatherby and I stretched out on the rocks and Harper
   kept watch at the rear of the house.
   
   It was the kind of a place and the kind of a night that made a man
   think of all the safe places in the world - his home, his wife, his
   mother, his church - every thing that had ever meant security to him.
   The wind sighed weirdly, the night birds mourned, and the black
   shadows seemed to creep across the canyon like furtive figures.
   
   Just as daylight came, Weatherby and I noticed a Mexican sheepherder
   drive his flock out of a pen down the road. Slowly he came into view
   and then to our surprise, we saw him turn his sheep around and drive
   them back in the direction from which he had come. Again he approached
   us, and again he turned the sheep back. [DEL: The :DEL] Then
   [Weatherby?] spoke, "Good lord, that fellow is just at the spot from
   which we were fired on last night. He's covering up the Mexicans
   tracks!"
   
   We sneaked up the road keeping ourselves screened from the house. Then
   when we got close to the herder, I threw my gun down on him.
   
   "Manos arribas," I ordered curtly.
   
   Up went his hands, and his eyes opened widely as he looked at my
   badge. 00077Meanwhile down the road I saw Burl and Charlie
   approaching. Pushing the Mexican along in front of me, I met them.
   Charlie and I talked things over, and then decided to send the Mexican
   into the house to see how bad Gregorio was hurt and to see if he could
   not talk the men into surrendering.
   
   The Mexican went into the house. An hour passed. We had about decided
   that he was not coming back, when the door opened and he appeared.
   
   "Him sick man," the sheepherder reported. "But Prietos no will
   surrender. They fight to the death."
   
   At this, Charlie and I exchanged glances. It was not to our liking to
   remain here until the sheriff could arouse his deputies and manage for
   the Prietos to escape.
   
   "I'm going in," I said.
   
   Charlie grinned. "Me too," he said.
   
   Cautiously we approached the door. This time a woman answered our
   call. Gently we asked her to open the door. To our suprise, the outer
   door flew open, but just as we entered a door on the left was quickly
   slammed and bolted.
   
   I rushed to the door, but Charlie pushed me back. He was heavier than
   me, and firming his shoulders, he crashed through the door. Before he
   had recovered his balance, Pedso Prieto had a Winchester on him.
   
   Charlie shouted and just as the Winchester leveled on Charlie [DEL:
   [?] :DEL] went off [?] pulled the trigger of my gun. Pablo fell dead.
   
   Swiftly we checked through the house. Gregorio had died from the blast
   of Sim Weatherby's shotgun. Pablo lay dead in 00088another room. In
   the kitchen cowered a Mexican woman holding a baby and softly moaning.
   In another corner was a badly frightened sheepherder.
   
   We assured the woman that she would not be harmed and induced her to
   make herself some coffee and drink it. Then, we made a check on the
   weapons in the house. The place was virturally an arsenal. There was
   one 30:30 Winchester, one .12 gauge pump shotgun, one [30:06?] bolt
   action government gun; and all these were fully loaded and forty-eight
   shells for these guns lay on a table in the front room.
   
   Joe [?] was then sheriff of the county. He had numerous deputies and
   most of them were Mexicans. It was not long until these deputies and
   their friends started pouring in.
   
   But Charlie and I were prepared for them. Our kind treatment of the
   women, was repaid. As each man or group of Mexican men approached the
   entrance to the house, Senora Prieto met the men at the door.
   
   "Buenos dias, senores," she greeted.
   
   "Que tal?" they asked.
   
   "Bueno,' she replied, "pase."
   
   "Manos arribas muchachos, I commanded as each man passed through the
   door into the house. Charlie relieved him of his guns. From the first
   four Mexicans who arrived, we took three guns. 00099As soon as the
   dead men had been removed, Charlie and I returned to Marfa.
   Apparently, and so far as we knew the incident was closed. But as yet
   we had not dealt with the Mexican county officials.
   
   [Within?] a month a grand jury was assembled and Charlie and I were
   summoned to appear before it. We knew that we [?] were being taken for
   a ride, so we agreed not to tell a thing. There is no law which can
   force a man to testify against himself. So we spoke no word for
   ourselves and refused to divulge our part in the affair.
   
   The trial came up before Judge John Sutton, a fair minded judiciary.
   The proscuting attorney was Roy [?], and he was out to prove that
   Charlie and I were [DEL: murders :DEL] murderers. Besides that threats
   were passed around town that if ever we came out of the trial free,
   relatives of the Prietos were planning to kill us.
   
   We were acquitted of all charges against us, and there was never any
   attempt made against our lives. The Prietos soon removed themselves to
   Mexico, and law enforcers on the border certainly were glad to see
   them go as that cleaned out one nest of constant trouble.
   
   In 1934 I was transferred to headquarters in Austin where I served
   until the beginning of Governor Allred's term under Captain D. [?].
   Hammer.

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