Memories Of Mary E. Cummins
(Editor’s Note: I once wrote a story about a young horse thief. He would go to Texas, steal eight or more horses, drive them back to Indian Territory and sell them to unsuspecting farmers. He had a dugout on the banks of Buckhorn Creek, south of Sulphur, where he would hide out after each raid. On is last ill-fated trip, Texas lawmen followed him to the dugout. The lawmen waited until dawn when they called for him to come out and surrender. To their surprise, the young horse thief came out of the dugout with iron in each hand. He fired wildly as he tried to make his escape. The Texas lawmen returned fire and killed the young horse thief. They then drug his body to the top of a nearby hill and buried him. The horse thief was Mary’s son.) --Dennis Muncrief
