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Updated: May 28, 2025
Anyhow, Gray got a few of his friends together, gathered his horses without attracting attention, and within a day's drive crossed into the Indian Territory, where he could defy all the sheriffs in Texas. When this cold fact first dawned on Sheriff Ninde, he could hardly control himself. With this brand of horses five or six days ahead of him he became worried.
Every little thing that troubled me or that I wanted, I told him. He sat there and he couldn't have listened with more interest or been quieter if I had been a bishop, which is the biggest thing that ever happened at our house; his name was Ninde and he came from Chicago to dedicate our church when it was new. So father listened and thought and held his arms around me, and
"What in hell are you doing with my horses?" "I've got to have these horses, sir," answered Ninde. "Do you realize what it will take to get them?" asked Gray, as he brought his gun, both barrels at full cock, to his shoulder. "Bat an eye, or crook your little finger if you dare, and I'll send your soul glimmering into eternity, if my own goes to hell for it."
In some manner this judgment was revived, transferred to the jurisdiction of his district, and an execution issued against his property. Sheriff Ninde of this county was not as wise as he should have been. When the execution was placed in his hands, he began to look about for property to satisfy the judgment.
He would overtake those horses, overpower the men if necessary, and bring back to his own bailiwick that brand of horse-stock. At least, that was his plan. Of course Gray might object, but that would be a secondary matter. Sheriff Ninde would take time to do this. Having made one mistake, he would make another to right it.
Led by the sheriff and his deputy, they rode out about midnight to the pasture and found the herd and herders. "What do you fellows want here?" demanded young Gray, as Ninde and his posse rode up. "We want these horses," answered the sheriff. "On what authority?" demanded Gray. "This is sufficient authority for you," said the sheriff, flashing a six-shooter in young Gray's face.
Committee under the last resolution First Branch: Henry P. Brooke, John Dukehart, J. Hanson Thomas, David Blanford, John Thomas Morris. Second Branch: Jacob J. Cohen, W. B. Morris, Hugh A. Cooper, James C. Ninde, Geo. A. Lovering. JOHN H. J. JEROME, Mayor. JOHN S. BROWN, President of First Branch. HUGH BOLTON, President of Second Branch.
Yet in that determined look it was evident that he would rather be shot down like a dog than yield to what he felt was tyranny and the denial of his rights. When his party came within a quarter of a mile of the corrals, it was noticed that Ninde and his deputies ceased their work, mounted their horses, and rode out into the open, the sheriff in the lead, and halted to await the meeting.
Ninde was on the uneasy seat, for he would not return to the State, though his posse returned somewhat crestfallen.
The local papers in supporting his candidacy for this office had often spoken of him and his chief deputy as human bloodhounds, a terror to evil doers. Their election, they maintained, meant a strict enforcement of the laws, and assured the community that a better era would dawn in favor of peace and security of life and property. Ninde was resourceful if anything.
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