The most notable Englishman who ever came to Texas was Ben Thompson; but he arrived there at so early an age, and became so thoroughly Western in his mode of life, that Texans claim him as their own. I imagine, however, he always retained some of the traditions of his birthplace, as there is a story of his standing with his hat off to talk to an English nobleman, when Thompson at the time was the most feared and best known man in all Texas. The stories of his recklessness and ignorance of fear, and utter disregard of the value of others’ lives as well as his own, are innumerable. A few of them are interesting and worth keeping, as they show the typical bad man of the highest degree in his different humors, and also as I have not dared to say half as much about bad men as I should have liked to do. Thompson killed eighteen men in different parts of Texas, and was for this made marshal of Austin, on the principle that if he must kill somebody, it was better to give him authority to kill other desperadoes than reputable citizens. As marshal it was his pleasure to pull up his buggy across the railroad track just as the daily express train was about to start, and covering the engineer with his revolver, bid him hold the train until he was ready to move on. He would then call some trembling acquaintance from the crowd on the platform and talk with him leisurely, until he thought he had successfully awed the engineer and established his authority. Then he would pick up his reins and drive on, saying to the engineer, “You needn’t think, sir, any corporation can hurry me.” The position of the unfortunate man to whom he talked must have been most trying, with a locomotive on one side and a revolver on the other. One day a cowboy, who was a well-known bully and a would-be desperado, shot several bullet-holes through the high hat of an Eastern traveller who was standing at the bar of an Austin hotel. Thompson heard of this, and, purchasing a high hat, entered the bar-room. “I hear,” he said, facing the cowboy, “that you are shooting plug-hats here to-day; perhaps you would like to take a shot at mine.” He then raised his revolver and shot away the cowboy’s ear. “I meant,” he said, “to hit your ear; did I do it?” The bully showed proof that he had. “Well, then,” said the marshal, “get out of here;” and catching the man by his cartridge-belt, he threw him out into the street, and so put an end to his reputation as a desperate character forever.