McAllen Texas Bank Robbery

Lance Huffman stared down the iron sights of the Winchester.  The posse led by Sheriff Bill Henderson, from McAllen Texas concealed behind the large boulders below.  He wasn’t trapped but unable to escape during daylight hours.  He hoped the posse wouldn’t attempt to rush him before then, forcing him into shooting.  They stopped and took cover when the initial warning shots fired. He turns and studies the escape route up and over the box canyon steep rugged cliffs. To the best his knowledge, he is the only person aware of the dangerous passageway.

He rode into the box canyon by design the sheriff and the posse thought him trapped without food or water.  They would simply wait him out. They wouldn’t rush his position risking being shot, and killed by the expert rifleman. His vigil continued thinking about the horse hidden high above waiting to take him safely to Mexico. 

Sheriff Henderson looked up into the box canyon thinking about Lance Huffman his deputy and longtime acquaintance.  Huffman wasn’t stupid so why had he deliberately trapped himself inside the box canyon.  The man knew the area well. It didn’t make sense.  The posse could simple wait him out since there wasn’t any water inside the canyon.  He would have the water and supplies, he carried and nothing else.   The man wasn’t that stupid.  Why had he robbed the bank?  Huffman wasn’t down on his luck but robbing the bank didn’t make sense.  There was no possibility of escape the Sheriff decided the posse would wait until he surrendered.  The sun would be setting in another two hours it would be a long night.

The sun slowly disappeared in the western sky.  Night sounds started interrupting the serene silence as the posse gather around their campfires.  The lookouts noticed the fire high above where Lance Huffman waited trapped.  The twenty members of the posse didn’t want to charge the canyon knowing the ability of Huffman with the Winchester.  Once during the recent fair, he demonstrated his abilities by having five apples throw into the air at the same time. They were all busting hitting the ground.  The warning shots he fired only warnings they thought. If Huffman intended to kill them, the three shots he fired would have killed three posse members. The darkness came they watched the dying embers of Huffman fire they disappeared around midnight. They thought him sleeping but didn’t dare to try to slip up into the canyon.

It was after midnight when Lance Huffman completed the dangerous climb reaching the summit of the box canyon.  Briefly looking back down at the glowing fires of the posse smiling wondering how long it would take them to realize he slipped away.  He unsecured the Winchester adjusted the saddles bags and jogged the quarter of mile to where the horse grazed in the small rope pin. After checking the animal, the saddle nearby uncovered saddling the horse he would head south toward Mexico the border thirty miles away.  He would ride the rest of the night make camp in the morning and rest a few hours and continue the journey.  He figured he would cross the bordered by sundown once crossing the border a suitable campsite would be located to spent the night.

When Sheriff Bill Henderson his longtime acquaintance and posse discovered his absents and figured out what happened they would be surprised. It was doubtful they would or could pick up his trail. If they did discover his, trail and pursue. Sherriff Henderson wouldn’t cross the border. There would be a reward offered for bank robbery and wanted posters circulated throughout the territory.  Lance knew how the system worked having been a loyal deputy of Sheriff Henderson six years. 

The nearly twenty thousand dollars taken would provide incentive for some of the posse to pursue.  Without Henderson leadership, they would ride in circles, give up and return home.  The money would provide him with a new start.  He doubted he would stay in Mexico. South America was an excellent possibility.   

He was mounting the horse hearing the action of a Winchester being manipulated the sound easily recognized.  His own Winchester in the saddle scabbard his right leg moving over the horse back both hand on the saddle horn and reins.  Reaching for the Colt strapped around his waist not advisable. He was caught in a position where the possibilities of his surviving not good.  He continued mounting once seated in the saddle.  He raised his hands giving up knowing somebody knew about the dangerous escape route.  Who knew or figured it out unknown.

“Who are you and why have you drew down on me?”  He asked turning his head slightly looking in the direction of the sound.  He saw a darkened silhouette of a large unrecognizable person.  Silence filled the night air as Lance considered his few options. If he attempted to drawn the Colt he would die before his hand touched the butt. Unless the person with the Winchester was a terrible, shot, he doubted that.

“Half the money from the bank Lance and you ride off and I do the same.”  The man’s voce said.  “Take out you handgun with thumb and forefinger and drop it to the ground and then dismount. Keep your hands away from the rifle scabbard.

Hearing Sherriff Henderson voice, he almost pissed his pants. The Sheriff a deadly shot with a rifle and handgun.  His asking for half the banks money startled him believing the sheriff unapproachable and honest as the day was long.  The only choice he possessed do as he said.  Slowly he removed the Colt dropping it to the ground dismounted facing the Sheriff Henderson kept his hands raised.  There was hundreds of question swirling around his mind.  He wondered if Bill would allow him to ask.  His asking for half the money encouraging and surprising always considered him an honest man.      

“Remove the saddlebag and count out ten thousand dollars that is your share.  The remainder is mine place my money is these saddlebags.”  He tossed his saddlebags at his feet.  “You looked surprised.  The citizens of McAllen don’t care about us only their money and our protection.  I’m retiring in three years and they will present me with a gold watch and five dollars a month pension while they get fat and richer.” He smiled watching me counting out the ten thousand dollars. “I could have just shot you and kept all the money. You save my life shooting the back-shooter lying in wait for me five years ago.  I owe you for that I figure we are even now. Don’t say anything or ask any questions. Toss me the saddlebag with my share. If I were you I wouldn’t stop until reaching Mexico and don’t seek revenge. That would be a mistake and unhealthy for you.”

The saddlebags tossed at his feet picking them up disappearing into the darkness. Minutes later the horse heard galloping away. Standing there laughing not, unhappy about being out over nine thousand dollars knowing jail wasn’t in my future.  The Colt and saddlebags picked up. He mounting the horse and started the journey to Mexico.

 He glanced over his shoulder occasionally making sure Sheriff Henderson hadn’t gotten greedy and followed.  Arriving in Mexico, the incident not forgotten he would seek investment here or elsewhere.  The full amount preferable the ten thousand and his freedom the Sheriff gave enough.  He didn’t dare go back to Texas knowing Henderson would have circulated wanted posters bearing his likeness and description.  He was positive the posse unaware the sheriff slipped away during the night and robbed him. He knew he underestimated Henderson and wanted revenge but didn’t see any way of taking it.

It was July 1901 seven years after Lance robbed the McAllen Bank in Texas and then robbed by Sheriff Henderson. He had never forgotten the incident and thought about revenge often.   His travels brought him from Mexico to New Zealand where he made a sizable fortune gold mining.  The money from the mining invested in a large sheep ranch.  The ranch made more money he thought investing in America an excellent idea.  He missed his native country and wanted to go home.  His enterprises looked after by his attorney and good friend Howard Drake.

San Francisco only his first stop, there was a ten thousands acre cattle ranch in Colorado Lance was giving serious about buying.  He would rest for a few days here play poker and seek female companionship.  This was the first time on America soil in seven years.  His Hotel across the street from the Golden Triangle the marque advertised gambling and dancing girls.  After changing clothes and cleaning up, he walked across the street to the saloon.

Standing at the bar taking sizing up the saloon, sipping bourbon,  He saw who he thought Bill Henderson as big as life walking down the stairs.  Seven years a long time he wasn’t positive it was Henderson.  He turns away before being seen not knowing what would happen if recognized.  He still carried a grudge and wanted revenge. Was it worth having gunfight the first night on American soil in seven years?  He thought it was.   He wondered briefly how Bill made out with the nine thousand dollars stolen from him.  He needed to be positive it was Bill Henderson.  “Hey bartender who was man that came down the stairs just now?”

“The owner of this establishment and three others here in San Francisco, came from Texas four years ago with money to invest.”  The bartender said returning to his duties.

The time line fit apparently, Bill had turned his money into a sizable nest egg. He looked in the mirror behind the bar and spotted Henderson talking to one the men running a Rolette Wheel.  Unconsciously reaching down and undoing the rawhide strap securing the Colt by its hammer.  Turned and stared at Bill Henderson smiling and shouted across the bar. “Long time no see Bill Henderson.”  He waved with his left hand, the right close to the Colt butt.  Seeing the expression worth the nine thousand dollars, he stole. Recognition came quickly, Lance right hand seen dangling close to the holstered Colt. 

Bill spread his coat open showing he wasn’t armed walked toward the bar where he stood.  He stopped in front of Lance Huffman offered his right hand. 

Knowing Bill carried a 38, hideout revolver when Sheriff in McAllen Texas his right hand remained next to his Colt thinking he still carried the revolver. He refused to shake hands.  “Bill you owe me over nine thousand dollars pay up and I want kill you.”  Once the statement made Lance started laughing, Bill joined him a few seconds later. They spent the next three days swapping stories. Before leaving San Francisco Bill offer to repay the money, Lance refused.