One of the outstanding characters of early days in Southwest Texas is P.C. Barid, now residing at Mason, Texas, of which county he was sheriff for many years. Before going to Mason county, Mr. Baird was a member of the Texas Rangers, and had many thrilling experiences, which if all were related, would make an interesting volume. The writer has known hime since 1888, and I know of his absolute fearlessness in the face of danger, and of his ever readiness and willingness to go where duty called him. I have seen his nerve put to the severest test, and he hid not flinch. I stood on a street corner in Mason and saw Mr. Baird, then a deputy sheriff, adn John C. Butler, sheriff, engaged in a pistol duel with two brothers, in which the two latter were killed. Afterward Mr. Baird became sheriff of Mason county and held the office for sixteen years, and during the time he had to contend with all sorts of lawless characters, but he was the man for the place and but few guit-edged crooks escaped his persistent trailing. So active and so successful was he in running criminals to earth that he was nicknamed "Old Sleuth" and the name sticks to him yet, despite the fact that he had long since retired to private land.

While a Texas Ranger he was in charge of the scout that made the fight at the Green Lake Water Hole in Edwards county, an account of which appeared in Frontier Times two years ago. He also led the scout which captured the murderers of Old Man Braigiham of Gillespie county. And single-handed he captured the Fredonia safeblowers after trailing them three days and nights. Each of those yeggmen were armed with a 45 Colts pistol and had 52 rounds of cartridges and twelve ounces of nitroglycerine on their person. Mr. Baird took them in and recovered all the money adn valuables taken from teh safe, amounting to $13,000. Mr. Baird is also the man who was employed by the United States Government, through Postoffice Inspector Hollingsworth, and uncovered the indentity of the McNeil train robbers, and also the Flatonia trian robbery in 1886, his work resulting in the capture and killing of the robbers, seven in all.

Mr. Braid talks interestingly of those days wehen he reached Mason county, and the various characters he had to deal with. Some time ago he related to me the following particulars of a chase after a horsethief, and I give it here as he gave it to me:

"Soon after tendering my resignation severing connection as a Ranger of Co. "D" Frontier Battalion I came to Mason, going to work as deputy sherriff, of Mason county under John C. Bulter, then sheriff, a horse and saddle was stolen from Wm. Schuessler, being taken from the Methodist church house door about nine o'clock on one Sunday night; I was notified of the horse being missing, and probably stolen the next day about eleven o'clock, after Mr. Schuessler had made deligent search, thinking possibly the horse had gotten loose and wandered away. On being notified of the missing horse and saddle, and also being told that the horse had been fresh shod the day before, and just how he was shod by Mr. Schuessler, I began to search all roads and trails for this certain track. Late in the evening of the same day, I found the track leading out on the Brady road, trailing twelve miles, when it quit the road, taking across the country, as the country was all open in those good old days of yore. I trailed this track to Eden, in Concho county, where I found the thief had stopped long enough to get something to eat and feed his horse. Eden was then a place of one store, a post office, and likely inhabited with some dozen souls. The postmistress, a small, slender, black-eyed woman, with and eye like and eagle, had scrutinized this 'gentleman horse theif' closely, and was able to give me a very accurate description of him, being the first person in my chase that had seen, or could give me any information concerning the rider of the horse, but this made no difference as I had the trail and track.

"After making inqiry as to roads, and herds of cattle that had passed, he headed his horse douwn to San Angelo-Paint Rock road; arriving at the forks of this road. Owing to so much travel and being very dusty, I was detained for quite a time, cutting for sign and to get the trail off again, to find that it had taken the Paint Rock fork. With the trail hot, on this hot August day, I leaned forward and picked my cayuse up on the spurs again with renewed vigor and spirits, much to the discomfort of my poor tired cayuse, as he was about "all in;" in fact, it was necessary that I remount at old Runnels City, in Runnels county, seven miles north of where Ballinger now stands. On arriving at Runnels City, and riding into a livery barn to have my horse fed, and to get a late dinner, as it was about one o'clock in the afternoon, to my surprise I found Mr. Schuessler's saddle hanging on a rack. On inquiry I found that the thief had traded it to the liveryman the day before for another saddle and fifteen dollars, as he appeared to be in need of funds.

"After hurriedly partaking of a lunch and cup of coffee, I secured a new mount from the livery barn, leaving my tired cayuse for a rest and general repairs, as he was pretty well spurred up, and leaving Runnels City at two o'clock, I hit the trail again. From two o'clock 'till night I put my new mount over the trail into Abilene, a distance of fiftly miles. Arriving in the outskirts of the then little burg, I unsaddled, tied my new mount to a mequite bush, lay down with my saddle under my head for a pillow and rested. The next morning when I could see the first sign of a gray streak in the east, I saddled up, rode into Abilene, and turning into the first livery barn I came to, dismounted, and asked that my horse be watered and fed. Untying my slicker from behind the saddle, taking a 45 colts out placing it in the waist of my pants, the gentleman remarked that he would advise me to be careful, that the officers were very strict about any one carrying a pistol. I thanked him, stating that I would take care of myself.

"Walking down the isle between the stalls looking each horse over carefully, I did not find the horse I was looking for. I then ask the liveryman if being informed there were two others and of thier location, I proceeded to search for the stolen horse. Going to the barn, and looking over some fifty or more hoses that were being fed, I could find nothing of the horse I was on the trail of, so I proceeded to the next barn just north of the railroad and depot, owned by one Mr. John B. Bell. As I entered the barn Mr. Bell passed the time of the morning with me, and asked if there was anything he could do for me, to which I replied that I was looking for a cheap horse that I might buy. Casting my eye down the hall between the stalls, I discovered the horse that I had been trailing. Pointing to the horse I asked what such a horse as that was worth, to which he replied the horse was not for sale; that he had bought the horse and a saddle the evening before at a bargain (pointing to a saddle hanging near by) for twenty-five dollars. I said it was cheap, provided it was good property. I then asked him if he knew the party from whom he had bought the horse, and he said no, but he was satisfied as to the ownership of the horse. I then informed him that the horse was a stolen horse, and I was an officer and wanted the man be bought him from. When asked if he has seen him since he bought the horse; he said that he saw him last about nine o'clock the night before. I then asked if he saw him after the passenger train went west, and he said yes. I then told Mr. Bell to go after Sheriff J.V. Cunningham, that I wanted him to help me scour the town for the man he broght the horse from. About this time Mr. Bell informed me there was an incoming passenger train that was due in a few minutes, going west.

"I told him to go for Mr. Cunningham and I would take care of the train. He did so; where I took up a position near the depot where I could see all who got on the train. None getting on of his description, and the train pulled out, I walked across the street to the south side. About this time the breakfast bells began ringing. Mr. Bell, not yet having returned with Sheriff Cunningham, I strolled down the street with eyes open for my man. Walking in front of a restrauant, and taking a peep in at the door, I saw my "much trailed and coveted prize" sitting at the table partaking of a sumptuous breakfast. As I walked in he appeared to recognize me and began rising from the table, as if to make his way to an exit in the rear. I told him not to be in any haste, but to finish his breakfast, to which he replied, 'You have not only got me - but my appetite also; then too, to come clean I haven't a red cent in my pocket to pay for it with;' I informed him that he didn't go hungry, and to take on a good fill, which he very modestly declined - I paying for the damage already done. At this time Mr. Bell and Sheriff Cunningham appeared on the scene of action, and on being introduced to Cunningham, and after a few preliminary remarks we headed for the jail to make a deposit with the jailer, as an additional ornament to his carcel.

"After a day's much needed and enjoyed rest, I placed my prisoner astride the same horse, to retrace and backtrack to Mason, a distance of 175 miles. The first night after leaving Abilene I spent in Runnels City, making a deposit of my charge with an old timer, the well known sheriff, John Formwalt. The next morning I pulled off a rodeo on a small scale for the amusement of the little town, giving an exhibition in riding when I topped the huricane deck of the tired and spurred cayuse that I had left in the Runnels livery barn for rest and repairs. As he was of the Spanish type of cayuse, it didn't take him long to recuperate to the extent that he wanted to even up old scores. When he concluded his exercises with me, I was minus a hat, pistol, pocket knife, and saddle blanket, with the flank cinch forward and saddle on his wethers, and I looking for a soft place to fall. The audience and witnesses to this show appeared to enjoy it very much from the yells and cheers that went up, I informed them I wasn't giving a cowboy's exhibition in riding, but that it was the old time Ranger-twist. At any rate, the crowd appeared to enjoy the "twist exhibition," and gathered up and brought to me all of my scattered articles. After replacing and adjusting my saddle and other articles, I again mounted the spanish cayuse, but the fun was all over; cayuse appeared to be satisfied - and so was I. Waving the crowd a Ranger's salute, and bidding them adios, pal and I were off again on our back trail, landing in Paint Rock to spend the night with my old time agigo, Co. W.T. Melton, then sheriff of Concho County.

"The next day's travel homeward at nightfall I landed in McCulloch county, at a sheep camp on Dry Brady Creek; here I had to resort to the old Rangers' jail, that of sleeping chained to "my pal" during the night, with only two small boys in the camp to whom I turned over my keys and pistol, after locking myself and pal together. After a good night's rest Pal and I arose early, much refreshed, and after a nice camp breakfast which was appreciated and enjoyed, we saddled and mounted our cayuses, and were soon wending our way, back-tracking, to Mason. Just before old Sol hid his face behind the western horizon we rode into Mason. Here I made another deposit with Sheriff Butler, but not for keeps, as will be explained later.

"After a few days I was called to Blanco, as a witness, and to take other witnesses, in connection with some horse theft cases pending in the court in which I was connected in my offical capacity, the horses being stolen in Mason county, and I capturing them in Blanco county, giving Blanco county jurisdiction in the cases, and we preferring to try them there. While I was in Blanco there was a jail delivery in Mason, in which five prisoners made their escape, my 'pal' being one of the number. On my return home I learned of the jail delivery on my arrival in Fredericksburg. On my arrival in Mason I wanted to take up may 'pal's' trail agian, but found Sheriff Butler sick, and our district court to convene soon, it was necessary that I get busy preparatory to the holding of this court. In the meantime I kept tab on my 'pal', his movements, etc. This time he headed west, passing through Tom Green county, stealing a pair of horses from a rancer.

"After our court adjourned I was ready to take up my 'pals' trail again. From former association I had rather learned to like the chap. Taking up his trail, I found where he had sold the horses stolen in Tom Green county, to a party in Howard County, near Big Springs. His trail then led to Pecos City, where he stopped over for a good time for several days to spend the money from the sale of his Tome Green County horses. Then his trail led to Toyah, where he had a good time for a few days. His delays were all to my advantage as I was several days behind, and account as before stated. In Toyah I found that my 'pal' had taken the train for El Paso, presumably for another good time. Of course, under conditions, I also had business in El Paso, and boarded the train, arriving in El Paso one morning a four o'clock, and begin tired and short on sleep, I went to the Grand Central Hotel and got a room for a short nap and rest, after which I was much refreshed. After eating breakfast I strolled down the street. It being my first trip to the city, I wanted to locate the town and think matters over in connection with the object of my visit.

"As I passed along down the street reading the signs as any country Rube will, I noticed a few of those fellows that wore dark colored clothes with large brass buttons on their coats. I was a little shy of these fellows as I was from the brush and cactus country. I hadn't gone far down the street, stopping on a corner, until my 'pal' turned the same corner at my elbow with his eyes elevated as if he, too, was looking the signs and bill-boards over. I hailed to him:

"Hello, there old scout! What are you doing here?"

And he replied,

"Well, here you are again. I can't leave home on a little pleasure trip but what you come and hunt me up."

"Yes" said I, "but what I dislike most is that I always find you broke and ready to follow me home, and I have to pay all expenses."

"I escorted him to the jail and I made another 'deposit' until the next morning when the train from the west passed through for Fort Worth. I spent the rest of the day with Ex-Sheriff Comstock, who was chief deputy under Captain White. And by the way, Mr. Comstock was a former sheriff of Menard county, and sprung the trap when a negro was hanged in Mernardville in the early days of that county. Mr. Comstock seened to appreciate the fact that I was just a 'green Rube' from the brush and cactus country, and took quite an interest in showing me the sights of El Paso.

On arrival of the east-bound train at 2 o'clock the next morning, 'Pal' and I boarded it for Fort Worth, and reaching there we changed to the M.K. & T. for Austin. We encountered a train wreck on Waco Creek, two miles south of Waco, where we were delayed and did not reach Austin until 12 o'clock at night. The next morning we continued our trip homeward by taking the train to Burnet, thence to Llano and Mason by stage. Here I made my last 'deposit.' My 'pal' remained in jail until the next term of district court, when he pleaded guilty and went to the penitentiary for five years. After serving his term in the pen he returned to Mason county a wiser and better man. He told me that I had made a man of him, thanked me for my kindness and advice, and voted for me for sheriff at the next election"

With the furling of the colors of the Confederacy a spirit of unrest dominated the Southland. The desire to "go farther" and perhaps "fare worse," was prevalent among her people. To the natural antipathy for rebuilding that always obtains, there was added the heartache engendered by the suffering and sorrow endured so willingly and yet so uselessly for the Lost Cause. And the war wreckage of homes and industries offered small inducement to recreate. This restlessness extended to the blue grass regions of Kentucky. In the Hays' household the wonderful opening of the far West was the subject for much decussion. Texas, just aborning, held first place in these debates, which reached from the Mexican border to the Davis Mountains, and in the Llano Estacado, or Staked Plains, where day dawns, sunsets nad cloud effects where reputed to be the envy of the world. And the stretches of green so vast as to provide pasturage for thousands of cattle. But tales of Tragedy interspersed the setting forth of nature's beauteous and prolific dowry. Indain raids, massacres and hideous atrocities were not infrequently recounted. It was this, doubtless which influenced the father of young Mose Hays to ignore the urgent pleas of his son to join the almost continuous moving caravan of covered wagons, Texas bound.

Came Colorado into the limelight with her gold find. Reports that nuggets were so plentiful that children used them for marbles in their play, together with the natural advantages the Territory held for the raising of live stock, so enthused the head of the Hays' family that preparations for trekking northwestward were made as expeditiously as possible. Weeks of monotonous travel reached a climax for Mose, with the theft of the one and only horse the family possessed, necessitating his driving, afoot, the milk cows across 500 miles of prairie. But all things end and privations became secondary when Nevada and Colorado were sighted in their magnificent panorama of gorgeous coolring.

Tracks of panther, bear and smaller animals, with an occasional moccasin imprint, mute witnesses of lurking danger, were to the lad but forerunners of the much coveted thrilling adventure. Redskins, with their fiendish practices, were by him considered in the abstract, with a conception of realty as intangible as the Biblical definition of faith. When camp was made, Mose watched the wild creatures scurrying to safety for the night. And when the afterglow was merging into purplish gray, he listened to the storm of small bird's chatter, the eagle's scream, tho cooing of the wood dove and flute-like notes of the mocking bird. With the hushing down of buzz and swich and whirr of insects, the twinkling stars came close and so fell night's enchantment.

With the wrapping 'round of moonlight magic he drifted into the world of dreams. Not so with those responsible for the safety of the camp. The pioneer slept with one hand on the trigger, his eyes half open, and took no chances. The hoot of an owl was no more signficant to him of the presence of the wise old bird than it was indicative that a redskin band were signaling to begin their dastardly outrages.

These were the prevailing conditions and surroundings through which the ox-drawn schooner wound it's way to Colorado in 1866. Many and varied were the vicissitudes endured and personal and history were the establishment of the well known "Triangle Ranch" and the founding of a palatial home in San Antonio. But Mr. Hays will now continue the story.

"I was born in Kentucky. When I was 13 years of age, my father became inoculated with the "Texas fever," and it threatened to be a fatal attack. I scarcely need to add that I way praying that it would be, for I was, in mind, already a wild and wooly cowboy of the plains. Buy Indians were going strong about that time and father, fearful of danger to his family, decided against the move. Homever, it was not long until he hit the trail straight for Colorado Territory. Of course, I was disappointed, for nothing appealed to me like Texas stories, but when he told me I was to ride our only horse and drich the milch cows all the way, and when that horse was saddled and I crawled astride of him; with the oxen yoked to the wagon and all set to go, well, I felt then that even Texas had nothing better to offer.

Visitor Since Nov. 18, 1997
Last updated May 26, 1998
Copyright 1997 - 1998 by Michele Olson