Longhorns Watering on the Guadalupe, 12 / 29 2008

Details

This is a follow-up story to my recent story about when I was in high school I had a small herd of cattle. One day, after I was in college, I was accused of cattle rustling. In the cattle country of Southwest Texas, that is a very serious charge. In this story, the names of some of the participants have been changed out of respect for their descendants.
 
One weekend in 1953, I hitched hiked home from Texas A. & M. I arrived at our home on North Getty Street in Uvalde , Texas , just after lunch. As I walked down the gravel driveway to the rear of our home, I noticed that the county sheriff’s patrol car, with a big gold colored star on the door and a high radio antenna on the trunk, was parked in front of the house.
 
My mother met me at the back door to whisper to me that Sheriff Yeary was waiting for me in the Living Room. She said that he had been there for hours. I went straight to the Living Room. My mother’s Living room was filled with her collection of antique furniture and lamps. He was sitting on one of her couches, a Love Seat, however he looked to me like he didn’t have love on his mind. With legs crossed and hands folded in his lap, his steel-blue eyes were glued on me. His big silver-grey Stetson hat was pulled down over his brow and he was not smiling. Around his waist, I could see his gun belt with his big bone-handled single-action Colt .45 six shooter in the holster with a lot of extra rounds in his gun belt. He was tall, tough and a no nonsense type of lawman typical of South Texas . If you have seen the movie High Noon, Sheriff Yeary looked very much like the role played by Gary Cooper. He was looking at me intently. 
 
 Without a greeting, he softly said to me: “Son, Clyde Morganthal has identified one of his stolen steers, with his brand on it, at the cattle auction barn this morning and he called me to report it. Clyde told me that for some time a cattle rustler has been stealing steers off of his ranch that is south of town on the Batesville highway. I have checked with the auction barn office and according to them that steer was brought in by you yesterday. Can you tell me how it is that you brought in to the auction barn one of his stolen steers?” Transfixed, as a mouse hypnotized by the approaching snake, I looked into his unblinking  eyes. I was speechless. I had no idea what he was talking about. 
 
While Sheriff Yeary was stating the charges against me, my dad had walked in. He had heard that Sheriff Yeary was there to arrest me and had come home. My dad told me that the steer he was talking about was the one that I had bought several years before when I was in high school. The steer was wild as a deer and I had not been able to catch it for several years. The day before, he had happened to see the steer in the water pen and had closed the gate to catch it knowing that I wanted to sell it. He had taken it to the cattle auction barn the day before. (In the painting above, I have tried to paint the second steer, including the brand, the best I can remember the steer that I was accused of rustling.)
 
I kept good records of all of my cattle transactions, so I went into my room and found the bill-of-sale where I had bought that steer at the cattle auction. As I was handing the bill-of-sale to Sheriff Yeary, I happened to notice on the bill-of-sale that the seller of the steer was Baxter Henington from Crystal City . I exclaimed “Baxter Henington is Clyde Morganthal’s son-in-law.” I then recalled, and my dad confirmed, that Clyde had been bidding against me when I bought the steer, which is against the law. It was the conclusion of my dad and me, that Baxter had been bringing Clyde’s steers to the auction barn so that Clyde could bid up the price on his own livestock. Sheriff Yeary, without comment, took my bill-of-sale and left to go talk with Clyde . Unknown to my parents, there was a side issue to all of this which troubled me greatly.
 
Clyde Morganthal was a hard-as-nails rancher and cattle trader with a reputation that you should be careful in any dealings with him. I don’t ever recall seeing him smile. It seemed to me that he was always frowning. That may be because he had a pretty daughter and for a brief time she and I had had a romantic interest in each other, much to his objections. Once to circumvent his objections to our dating, she stayed with her sister and her husband, Baxter Henington in Crystal City . (That’s how I knew that Baxter was Clyde ’s son-in-law.) Like most teenage romances, ours also was very brief. Perhaps all of this may be why every time I saw Clyde he was frowning. This side issue worried me greatly. I was wondering if, just for spite, Clyde would press charges just to make life difficult for me and maybe try to get me sent to jail. My parents and I waited and waited. 
 
Finally, Sheriff Yeary returned and parked his patrol car. He got out and slowly walked up to the house and knocked on the screen door. I answered the door and invited him in. He said: “Son, since you have that bill-of-sale, and the description and brand are the same as the steer in question, Mr. Morganthal has decided that he will not press charges.” He handed me the bill-of-sale and walked away. There were no apologies given.
 
Years later, after my parents had died, and my brother and I were going through all of their things trying to decide what to keep and what to throw away, I came across those old bill-of-sales from my cattle owning days. Much to my dismay now, I decided not to keep them and foolishly threw them away. If I had now that bill-of-sale of that steer that saved my life on that fateful day, it would be framed and hanging on the wall.