The personnel of Captain Baylor's company changed rapidly, so that at the time of my discharge there was scarcely a man in the company that had served longer than six months. There was, therefore, no wrenching or straining of strong friendship ties when I left the command, save only for my leaving of Captain Baylor. To part from him did, indeed, make me feel sad. My farewell and departure was simple and unimpressive. I sat down with my comrades for a last ranger dinner of beans, bacon, bread and black coffee. After the meal I arose from the table, shook hands with Captain Baylor and the boys, mounted my horse and rode away from the ranger camp forever. Yet, though my term of actual service was over and though I had garnered a host of memories and experiences, I had not quite finished with the rangers--I had not gathered all the fruits of my ranger-ship,--an appointment to the police force of El Paso in the vicinity of which city I had so often scouted. CHAPTER XX FRUITS OF RANGER SERVICE Early in the spring of 1881 the old town of El Paso awoke out of her Rip Van Winkle sleep to find that four grand trunk railroad lines,--the Santa Fe, Southern Pacific, G., H & S.A., and the Texas & Pacific--were rapidly building toward her and were certain to enter the town by the end of the year. Situated as it was, many hundreds of miles from any other town, it was a foregone conclusion that El Paso had the making of a great city and was a fine field for investment. Bankers, merchants, capitalists, real estate dealers, cattlemen, miners, railroad men, gamblers, saloon-keepers and sporting people of both sexes flocked to the town. They came in buggies, hacks, wagons, horseback and even afoot. There was not half enough hotel accommodations to go around, so people just slept and ate at any old place. El Paso Street, the only business thoroughfare at that time, was flooded with crowds. [Illustration: DALLAS STOUDENMIRE] At night there was not enough room for people to walk on the sidewalks and they filled the streets. To me it looked just a miniature midway at a world's fair. A saloon was opened on almost every corner of the town with many in between. Each drinking place had a gambling house attached where the crowds played faro bank, monte, roulette, chuck-a-luck, stud poker and every gambling game on the calendar. If one wished a seat at the gaming tables he had to come early or he could not get within thirty feet of them. Two variety theaters, the Coliseum, operated by the Manning Brothers,--the largest in the southwest--and Jack Doyle's, were quickly opened.