Shiner Gazette (Shiner, Tex.), Vol. 28, No. 13, Ed. 1 Thursday, January 6, 1921 Page: 3 of 10
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SHINER GAZETTE. SHINER, TEXAS
i
a
BEa^gragai
, , , . . r,. rrrrrrrrrrrrrss*,.
The Strange
Case of
CAVENDISH
By Randall Parrish
Author .of
“ The DeviVe Own "
•*Afy Lady of fAe North," Etc,
Copyright by Randall Parrish
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CHAPTER XML—Continued.
—15—r* ••■ - * ■.
"Well, what’s it like? For God’s
<oake speak ajp—there’s goin’ ter be
ijfl— to pay in a minute.”
“Thar’s two rooms; tlier outside door
an’ winder are in the front one, which
its the biggest. The other is whar
Slendez sleeps, an’ thar’s a door be-
tween ’em.”
"No windows in the rear room?”
“None I ever see,”
“And just the one door; what sort
'O’ partition?”
“Just plain log, I reckon.”
“That’s all right, Jim,” and Westcott
tfelt the marshal’s fingers grasp his
«rm. “I got it sized up proper. Who-
mever them folks are, they’ve barricaded
Inter that back room. Likely they’ve
got a dead range on the front door,
an ’them Mexes have had all they want
tryin’ to get to ’em In that way. So
snow they’re crawlin’ in through the
window. There’ll be some hullabaloo
Hn there presently to my notion, an’ I
want ter be thar ter see the curtain go
mp. Wharabouts are we, Matt?”
“Back o’ the bunk house. Whar do
jyer want ter go? I kin travel ’round
■yere with my eyes shut.”
“The front o’ Mendez’ cabin,” said
the marshal shortly. “Better take the
other side; if that door Is down we’ll
take those fellows in the rear afore
they know what’s happening.” He
chuckled grimly. “We’ve sure played
iSn luck so far, boys; go easy now, and
draw yer guns.”
They were half-way along the" side
wall when the firing began again—but
3t was not the Mexicans this time who
'began it. The shotgun barked; there
was the sound of a falling body; two
Tevolver shots and then the sharp ping
of a Winchester. Brennan leaped past
the boy ahead, and rounded the cor-
ner. A Mexican stood directly in front
of the shattered door peering in, a ri-
fle yet smoking in his hands. With
one swift blow of a revolver butt the
anarshal dropped him in his tracks, the
bellow rolling off "the steps onto the
ground. With outstretched hands he
stopped the others, holding them back
-out of any possible view from within.
v “Quick now, before that bunch in-
side gets wise to what’s up. We’ve got
"'em cornered. You, Matt, strip the
Jacket off that Mex, an’ get his hat;
'bunch ’em up together, and set a match
to ’em. That’s the stuff! Now, the
minute they blaze throw ’em in through
that doorway. Come on, Westcott, be
ready to jump.”
The hat was straw, and the bundle
of blazing material landed almost in
The center of the floor, lighting up the
whole interior. Almost before It
struck, the three men, revolvers gleam-
ing in their hands, had leaped across
the shattered door, and confronted the
startled band huddled in one corner.
jBrennan wasted no time, his eyes
sweeping over the array of faces, re-
vealed by the blaze of fire on the floor.
“Hands up, my beauties—every
another’s son of yer. Yes, I mean you,
yer human catapiller. Don’t waste any
Time about it; I’m the caller fer this
<dance. Put ’em up higher, less yer
want ter commit suicide. Now drop
Them rifles on the floor—gently,
“I Was So Sure You Would Come."
friends, gently. Matt,, frisk ’em and
see what other weapons they carry.
Ever see nicer bunch o’ lambs, Jim?”
his lips smiling, but with an ugly ldok
to his gleaming teeth, and steady eyes.
“Why, they’d eat outer yer hand.
Which one of yer is Mendez?”
“He dead, senor,” one fellow man-
aged to answer in broken English.
♦"That heem lie dar.”
“Well, that’s some comfort,” but
without glancing about. “Now kick
the guns over this way, Matt, and
touch a match to1 the lamp on that
shelf yonder; and, Jim, perhaps you
better stamp out the fire; we’ll not
need it any more. Great Scott! What’s
tfiiar
l It vj/ag Miss Donovan, her dress torn,
her hair disheveled, a revolver still
clasped In her hand, half leveled as
though she yet doubted her realization
of what had occurred. She emerged
from the blackness of the rear room,
advanced a step and stood there hesi-
tating, her wide-open eyes gazing about
In bewilderment on the strange scene
revealed by the glow of the lamp. That
searching, pathetic glance swept from
face to face about the motionless cir-
cle—the cowed Mexican prisoners with
uplifted hands backed against the
wall; the three dead bodies huddled on
the floor; Moore, with the slowly ex-
piring match yet smoking In his fin-
gers; the little marshal, erect, a re-
volver poised in either hand, his face
set and stern. Then she saw West-
cott, and her whole expression changed.
An instant their eyes met; then the
revolver fell to the floor unnoticed, and
the girl sprang toward him, both hands
outstretched. *
“You!” she cried, utterly giving way,
forgetful of all else except the sense of
relief the recognition brought her.
“You! Oh ! Now I know it is all right!
I was so sure you would come.”
He caught the extended hands eager-
ly, drawing her close, and looking
straight down into the depths of her
uplifted eyes. To him, at that moment,
there was no one else in the room, no
one else in the wide, wide world.
“You knew I would come?” he
echoed. “You believed that much In
me?”
“Yes; I have never had a doubt.
But,” her lips quivered, and there were
tears glistening In the uplifted eyes,
“you came too late for him.”
"For him! The man who was with
you, you mean? Has he been shot?”
She bent her head, the lips refusing
to answer.
“Who was he?” ✓
“Mr. Cavendish—oh!”
It was a cry of complete reaction;
the room reeled about her and she
would have fallten headlong had not
Westcott clasped the slender form
closely in his arms. An Instant he
stood there gazing down into her face.
Then he turned toward Brennan.
“Leave us alone, Dan,” he said sim-
ply. “Get that gang of blacklegs out
of here.”
CHAPTER XIV.
------- In thf Two Gftbin#. -
The marshal's lips smiled.
“Sure, Jim,” he drawled, “anything
to oblige, although this is a new one
on me. Come on, Matt; it seems the
gentleman does not wish to be dis-
turbed- Well, neither would I un-
der such circumstances. Here you!
line up there in single file, and get a
move on you—pronto! Show ’em what
I mean, Matt; put that guy that talks
English at the head- Yes, he’s the
one. Now look here, amigo, you march
straight out through that door, and
head for the bunk-house—do you get
that?”
“SI, senor; I savvy!”
Westcott watched the procession file
out, still clasping the partially uncon-
scious girl in his arms. Moore, bring-
ing up the rear, disappeared through
the entrance, and vanished into the
night without. Except for the three
motionless bodies, they were alone.
From a distance Brennan’s voice
gr'owled out a gruff order to his line of
prisoners. Then all was still. The
eyes of the girl opened slowly, her lids
trembling, but as they rested on West-
cott’s face, she smiled.
“You are glad I came?”
“Glad! Why I never really knew
what gladness meant before.”
He bent lower, his heart pounding
fiercely, strange words struggling for
utterance.
“You love me?”
She looked at him, all the fervent
Irish soul of her In her eyes. Then
one arm stole upward to his shoulder.
“As you love me,” she whispered
softly, “as you love me!”
“I can ask no more, sweetheart,” he
breathed soberly, and kissed her. At
last she drew back, still restrained by
his arms, but with her eyes suddenly
grave and thoughtful.
“We forget,” she chided, “where we
are. You must let me go now, and
see if he is alive. I will wait on the
bench here.”
“Poof old Fred. I’ll do what I can
for him—I’ll not be away a minute,
dear.”
He could see little from the door-
way, only the dark shadow of a man’s
form lying full length on the floor.
Then he took the lamp down from the
shelf, and held it so the feeble light
fell upon the upturned face. He
stared down at the features thus re-
vealed, unable for the moment to find
expression for his bewilderment.
“Can you come here, Uv)ar?” he
called.
She stood beside him, gazing from
his face into those features on which
the rays of the lamp fell.
“What is it?” she questioned breath-
lessly. “Is he dead?”
“I do not know; but that man is not
Cavendish. Will you hold the lamp
until I learn if he is alive?”
She took it in trembling hands, sup-
porting herself against the wall, while
he crossed the room, and knelt beside
the motionless figure. A careful ex-
amination revealed the man’s wound
to be painful though not particularly
serious, Westcott lifted the man’s
head and the motion caused the eye-
lids to flutter. Slowly the eyes opened,
and stared up into the face bending
over him. The wounded man breathed
heavily, the dull stare in . his eyes
changing to a look of bewildered in-
telligence.
“Where am I?” he asked thickly.
“Oh, yes, I remember; J was shot.
Who are you?” I
“I am Jim Westcott; do km remem-
ber me?”
The searching eyes evidenced no
sense of recollection.
“No,” he said, struggling to make
the words clear. "I never heard that
name before.”
Miss Donovan came forward, the
lamp in her hand, the light shining
full in her face.
“But you told me you were Mr.
Cavendish,” she exclaimed, “and Mr.
Westcott was an old friend of his—
surely you must remember?”
He looked up at herr and endeav-
ored to smile, yet for the moment did
not answer. He seemed fascinated by
the picture she made, as though some
vision had suddenly appeared before
him.
“I—I remember you,” he said at
last. “You—you are Miss Donovan;
I’ll never forget you; but I never saw
this man before—I’m sure of that.”
“And I am equally convinced as to
the truth of that remark,” returned
Westcott, “but why did you call your-
self Cavendish?”
“Because that is my name—why
shouldn’t I?”
“Why, see here, man,” and West-
cott’s voice no longer concealed his
indignation, “you no more resemble
Fred Cavendish than I do; there is
not a feature In common between
you.”
“Fred Cavendish?"
“Certainly; of New York; who do
you think we were talking about?”
“I’ve had no chance to think. I
claim my name is Cavendish, and it
is; but I’ve never once said I was
Fred Cavendish of New York. If you
must know, I am Ferdinand Cav-
endish of Los Angeles.”
Westcott permitted the man’s head
to rest back on the floor, and he arose
to his feet. He felt dazed, stunned,
tb’crugli atxrcJveir n SUUUBII OlOW. “
“Good God!” he exclaimed. “What
can all this mean? You came from
New York city?”
“Yes; I had been there a month at-
tending to some business.”
“And when you left for the coast,
you took the midnight train on the
New York Central?”
“Yes. I had intended taking an
earlier one, but was delayed.”
“You bought return tickets at the
station?”
“No; I had return tickets; they had
to be validated.”
“Then your name was signed to
them ; what is your usual signature?”
“F. Cavendish.
“I thought so. Stella, this has all
been a strange blunder, but it Is per-
fectly clear how it happened. That
man Beaton evidently had never seen
Frederick Cavendish. He was simpl
informed that he would leave Ne
York on that train. He met this Cav-
endish on board, perhaps even sa
his signature on the ticket, and cul-
tivated his acquaintance. The foil
never doubted but what he had the
right man.”
The marshal of Haskell came outiof
the bunk-house, and closed the d/or
carefully behind him. He was rajner
proud of his nights’s work, and /felt
quite confident that the disarmed Mexi-
cans locked within those strong log
walls, and guarded by Moore, \yth a
loaded rifle acress his knee, woud re-
main quiet until daylight. Na,tJrally,
and ordinarily, Mr. Brennan wss con-
siderable of a cynic, but just pw he
felt in a far more genial and Sympa-
thetic mood.
“Jim’s some man,” he conided to
himself, unconsciously speakip aloud.
“An’ the girl’s a nervy little ying—al-
mighty good lookin’, too. I rykon it’ll
cost me a month’s salary fer/ weddin’
present, so maybe the jokejf on me.”
His mind reverted to Men<fz. “Five
thousand on the old cuss/ he mut-
tered gloomily, “an’ someb4y else got
the-chance to pot him. Wer, by hooky,
whoever it was sure did / good job—
it was thet shotgun coobu his goose,
judgin’ from the way As face was
peppered. Five thousap dollars—oh,
h—l!pl§|
His eyes followed th[outline of the
valley, able to distin/ish the darker
silhouette of the offs outstanding
against the sky sprpied with stars.
Far away toward th^ofthem extrem-
ity a dull red glow/dlcated the pres-
ence of a small fi
“Herders,” Brer^n soliloquized, his
thought Instantly Acting. “Likely to
be two, maybe th/e ov ’em out there;
an’ then there’s/em two on guard at
the head o’ the A11- I reckon they’re
wonderin’ whaA11 this yere shootin’
means; but ’ta/t probable they’ll kick
up any fuss yyflwhlle. We can handle
them all rightft they do. Hullo, there!
What’s comiipow?”
It was thAbod of a horse's hoofs
being riddejrapidly. Brennan dropped
to the groH*> 811(1 skurried out of the
light. He could perceive nothing of the
approaching rider, but whoever the fel-
low was he made no effort at secrecy.
He drove his horse down the bank and
Into the stream at a gallop, splashed
noisily* through the water, and came
loping up the nearer incline. Almost
in front of the bunk-house he seemed
suddenly struck by the silence and
gleam of lights, for he pulled his pony
up with a jerk, and sat there, staring
about. To the marshal, crouching
against the earth, his revolver drawn,
horse and man appeared a grotesque
shadow.
“Hullo!” the fellow shouted. “What’s
up? Did you think this was Christ-
mas eye?” Hey, there—Mendez; Cate-
ras.”
The little marshal straightened up,
and took a step forward; the light
“Hands Up, Bill!” He Said Quietly.
from the cabin window glistened wick-
on the blue steel of his gun bar-
rel.. --------
“Hands up, Bill I” he said quietly , in
a voice carrying conviction. “None of
that—don’t play with me. Take your
left hand an’ unbuckle your belt—1
said the left. Now drop it into the
dirt.”
“Who the h—I are you?”
“That doesn't make much difference,
does It, as long as I’ve got the drop?”
asked the other genially. “But, if you
must know to be happy—I’m the mar-
shal jo’ Haskell. Go easy, boy; you’ve
me shoot afore this, an’ I was
back in Texas with a weapon in
hand. Climb down offn that
seen
born
each
hoss ’
Li cy did so, his hands above his
heac, cursing angrily.
“Vhat kind of a low-down trick is
this, Brennan?” he snapped, glaring
through the darkness at the face of his
captor. “What’s become of Pascual
Mei|dez? Ain’t his outfit yere?”
“His outfit’s here all right, dead an’
alive,” and Brennan chuckled cheer-
fully, “but not being no gospel sharp
,1 can’t just say whar ol’ Mendez is.
What’s left ov his body is in thet cabin
yonder, so full o’ buckshot it ought ter
weigh a ton.”
“Dead?”
“As a door nail, if yer ask me. It
was some nice ov yer ter come ridin’
long here ternight, Lacy. It sorter
helps me ter make a good, decent
clean-up ov this whole measly outfit
I reckon I'll stow yer away, along with
them others. Mosey up them steps
there, an’ don’t take no chances lookin’
back.”
****** *
It was a hard, slow journey back
across the desert. Moore’s team and
wagon were requisitioned for the pur-
pose, but Matt himself remained be-
hind to help Brennan with the prison-
ers and cattle, until the party return-
ing to Haskell could send them help.
Westcott drove, with Miss Donovan
perched beside him on the spring-seat,
and Cavendish lying on a pile of blan-
kets beneath the shadow of the canvas
top. They stopped to lunch at Baxter
springs, and to water the team, and
it was considerably after dark when
they finally drove creaking up the
main street of Haskell and stopped in
front of the Timmons house to unload.
The street was devoid of excitement,
although the Red Dog was wide open
for business, and Westcott caught a
glimpse of Mike busily engaged be-
hind the bar. A man or two passing
glanced at them curiously, but, possi-
bly because of failure to recognize
him in the darkness, no alarm was
raised or any effort made to block
their progress. Without Lacy to urge
them on, the disciples of Judge Lynch
had likely enough forgotten the whole
affair.
As Westcott clambered over the
wheel and then assisted the lady to
alight the face of the landlord was
sufficiently expressive of surprise.
“You!” he exclaimed, staring Into
‘What the
their faces doubtfully.
Sam Hill does this mean?”
“Only that we’ve got back, Timmons.
Why thig frigid reception?”
“Well, this yere is a respectable ho-
tel an’ I ain’t goin’ ter have it all
mussed up by no lynchin’ party,” the
landlord’s voice full of regret. “Then
this yere gal; she wrote me she’d gone
back East.”
Westcott laughed.
“Stow your grouch, old man, and
give us a hand. There will be no
lynching, because Lacy is in the hands
of the marshal. As to this lady, she
never sent you that note. She was ab-
ducted by force and has just escaped.
Don’t stand there like a fool. I’ll tell
you the story later. There’s a wound-
ed man under the canvas there. Gome
on and help me carry him inside.”
Timmons, sputtering but impotent to
resist, took hold reluctantly, and the
two together bore the helpless Caven-
dish through the deserted office and up
the stairs to the second floor, where he
was comfortably settled and a doctor
sent for. The task was sufficiently
strenuous to require all the breath
Timmons possessed, and he managed
to repress his eager curiosity until the
wounded man had been attended to.
Once in the hall, however, and the door
closed, he could no longer control him-
self.
“Now see yere, Jim Westcott,” he
panted, one hand gripping the stair-
rail, “I’ve got ter know what’s up
afore I throw open this yere hotel to
yer free use this-away. As a general
thing I ain’t ’round huntin’ trouble—I
reckon yer know that—but this yere
affair beats me. What was it yer said
about Bill Lacy?”
“He?s under arrest, charged with
cattle-stealing, abduction, conspiracy
and about everything else on the cal-
endar. Brennan’s got him, and like-
wise the evidence to convict.”
“Good Lord! Is that so?”
“It is; the whole Mendez gang has
been wiped out. Old Mendez has been
killed. The rest of the outfit, including
Juan Cateras, are prisoners.”
Timmons’ eyes were fairly popping
out of his head, his voice a mere
thread of sound.
“Don’t that beat h—1!” he managed*
to articulate. “Where’s the marshal ?('
“Riding herd at a place they cal
Sunken valley,1 about fifty miles so
twelve Mexicans and^maybe tiweehnn
dred head of cattle to look after, un
I can send somebody out there to hel_
bring them in. Now that’s all you need
to know, Timmons; but I’ve got a
question or two I want to ask you.
Come on back into the office.”
Miss Donovan sat in one of the
chairs by the front window waiting.
As they entered she arose to her feet.
Westcott crossed the room and took
her hand.
“He’s all right,” he assured her
quickly, interpreting the look in her
eyes. “Tired from the trip, of course,
but a night’s rest will do wonders. And
now, Timmons,” he turned to the be-
wildered landlord, “is that man En-
right upstairs?”
“The New York lawyer? No, he
got frightened and left. He Skipped
out the next day after you fellers got
away. Bill wanted him to go along
with him, but he said he was too sick.
Then he claimed to have a telegram
callin’ him East, but he never did. I
reckon he must’ve got cold feet ’bout
somethin’—enyhow he’s gone.’
“And Miss La Rue?”
“Sure; she took the same train,”
eager now to divulge all he knew.
“But that ain’t her real name—it’s a
kind o’ long name, an’ begins with C.
saw it in a letter she left upstairs,
but I couldn’t make it all out. She’s
married.”
The eyes of Westcott and Miss Don-
ovan met. Here was a bit of strange
news—the La Rue woman married, and
to a ma«& with a long name beginning
with CJm’he same thought occurred to
them both, yet it was evidently Useless
to question Timmons any longer. He
would know nothing and comprehend
less. The girl looked tired, complete-
ly worn out, and the affair could rest
until morning.
“Take Miss Donovan to a room,”
Westcott said shortly, “and I’ll run
upstairs and have another look at Cav-
endish.”
“At who?”
“Cavendish, the wounded man we
just carried in.”
(TO BE CONTINUED.)
AN OPEN LETTER
TO WOMEN
Mrs. Little Tells How She
Suffered and How Finally
Cured
Philadelphia, Pa. —“I was not able to
do my housework and had to lie down
| most of the time and
[felt bad in my left
side. My monthly
periods were irreg-
ular, sometimes five
or seven months
apart and when they
[did appear wouldHast
for two weeks and
were very painful. I
| was sick for about a
year and a half and
doctoredbut without
any improvement.
A neighbor recommended Lydia E.
Pinkham’s Vegetable Compound to me,
and the second day after I started tak-
ing it I began to feel better and I kept
on taking it for seven months. Now I
keep house and perform all my house-
hold duties. You can use these facts as
you please and I will recommend Vege-
table Compound to everyone who suffers
as I did. ” — Mrs. J. S. Little, 3455
Livingston St., Philadelphia, Pa.
How much harder the daily tasks of
a woman become when she suffers from
such distressing symptomsandweakness
as did Mrs. Little. No woman should
allow herself to get into such a condition
because such troubles may be speedily
overcome by Lydia E. Pinkham’s Vege-
table Compound, which for more than
forty years has been restoring American
women to health.
Work for Disabled Soldiers.
Many former soldiers of the Brit-
ish army who are unable to follow
their pre-war vocations are working
in the royal gardens, at Windsor cas-
tle, in England. They are learning to
become market, private and jobbing
gardeners. Others are taking up
training as grooms, clerks, jockeys and
pastry cooks.
WOMEN NEED SWAMP-ROOT
Thousands of women have kidney and
bladder trouble and never suspect it.
Womens’ complaints often prove to be
nothing else but kidney trouble, or the
result of kidney or bladder disease.
If the kidneys are not in a healthy
condition, they may cause the other or-
gans to become diseased.
Pain in the back, headache, loss of am-
bition, nervousness, are often times symp-
toms of kidney trouble.
Don’t delay starting treatment. Dr.
Kilmer’s Swamp-Root, a physician’s pre-
scription, obtained at any drug store, may
be just the remedy needed to overcome
such conditions.
Get a medium or large Bize bottle im-
mediately from any drug store.
However, if you wish first to test this
great preparation send ten cents to Dr.
Kilmer & Co., Binghamton, N. Y., for a
sample bottle. When writing be sure and
mention this paper.—Adv.
in --------Jr-----* ~s-
Mistress—Norah, I rang for
four times and you didn’t come,
getting tired of it.
Maid—So am I; that’s why
come.—Boston Transcript.
Wright’s Indian . _____„ .....
nothing but vegetable ingredients,
act gently as a tonic and purgative i
ulation and not by irritation.—Adv.
At the Literary Meeting.
Literary Lady—“Are you fond of
Lamb, sir?” Literarv Gentleman—
“Essays or stew, ma’am?”
A door must be either open or shut.
-French proverb.
Great Soldier’s Monuments.
Greatest of all monuments ‘ of Em-
peror Napoleon are the two arches
of triumph, L’Arc de Triomphe and
L’Arc du Carrousel, both of which
were erected by the devoted Parisians
that all the world might know the
military supremacy which was theirs
under Napoleon. Equal to these in im-
portance is the tomb of the emperor,
Les Invalides, which he decided
should be a home for aged and dis-
abled soldiers, but which the Parisians
turned into a great museum to house
countless trophies of his wars acd
articles of his personal equipment, as
well as the body of the national hero,
who wished to be burled on the banks
of the Selnq amidst his beloved
“children.” —~
HELP THAT ACHING BACK !
Is your back giving out? Are you
tortured with backache and stabbing
pains? Does any exertion leave you
“all played out?” Feel you just can’t
keep going? Likely your kidneys are
to blame. Overwork, colds, hurry and
worry tend to weaken the kidneys.
Backache is often the first warning.
Headache and dizziness may come, too,
Pilis—the remedy recommended by
thousands. Ask your neighborl
G. W. Evans,
deputy sheriff,
Conroe, Tex.,
says: “I hurt my
back lifting. I had
a constant ache
in the small of
my back. My
kidneys acted too
frequently and
the s e c r e tions
were highly col-
ored. I had dizzy
spells, too. I
heard of Doan’s
Kidney Pills and one box cured me of
the attack.”
Get Doan’s at Any Store, 60s a Box
doan’s •y.'Liv
FOSTER -MILBURN CO., BUFFALO, N. Y.
I
you
I’m
I've
ontaln
which
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Habermacher, J. C. & Lane, Ella E. Shiner Gazette (Shiner, Tex.), Vol. 28, No. 13, Ed. 1 Thursday, January 6, 1921, newspaper, January 6, 1921; Shiner, Texas. (https://texashistory.unt.edu/ark:/67531/metapth1142278/m1/3/: accessed June 10, 2024), University of North Texas Libraries, The Portal to Texas History, https://texashistory.unt.edu; crediting Shiner Public Library.