How the Shoemaker Got Rich
by C. F. Eckhardt

In the 1870s and 1880s a lot of folks from Missouri and Arkansas moved to the Texas border. The names they gave when they got to Texas were not necessarily the names they had in Missouri and Arkansas. So it was with one of the sheriffs of one of our border counties-who shall remain nameless because the name we knew him under was not likely the name he had when he left home.

He had money when he got to Texas. How much we don't know for certain, nor do we know the source of it. It was enough, though, to buy a fairly large ranch and, later, to finance a successful run for county sheriff.

Most of the folks along the border, then and now, speak Spanish. Not all those who speak Spanish also speak English. The sheriff, however, refused even to attempt to learn to speak Spanish. "Them folks wanta talk to me, let 'um talk like a Christian," he said. He was a Baptist.

This led to a problem, because a lot of the people he arrested either spoke no English or refused to speak English. When confronted with this situation, the sheriff called on Abelardo Guzman, the local 'zapatero' or shoemaker. Abelardo, of course, spoke fluent Spanish—it was his native tongue—but he also spoke fairly fluent English, though with a heavy accent. He had to speak English. He made and repaired shoes and boots. Most of his customers spoke English as a native tongue and some of them spoke very little or no Spanish.

In 1904 the bank in the county seat was robbed—of $10,000. That was very nearly the entire assets of the bank. There was, of course, no FDIC in 1904, so if the money was gone it was just gone and the bank would have to close its doors.

The robber was shortly caught—but he didn't have the money on him. He also didn't speak—or refused to speak—English. The sheriff called on Abelardo. "Now, Guzman," he said, "I'm gonna tell you whut to say to this feller an' you tell me whut he says."

"Si, Senor Cheriff, I do theese thing," Abelardo replied.

"Ask his whar 'at money's at."

Abelardo turned to the bandit. "Donde esta el dinero del banco?" he asked.

"No digo nada," was the reply.

"Whut'd he say?"

"Senor Cheriff, these hombre, he say he ain't gonna tell you nothin'."

"You tell him he don't tell me whar 'at money's at, I'm gonna put him in jail for ten years."

This was translated. The bandit said "Soy un joven. En diez anos soy un rico."

"Whut'd he say, Guzman?"

"Senor Cheriff, these hombre, he say he a young man. In ten year he gonna be a reech man."

That made the sheriff mad. It made him very mad. "You tell 'at li'l sumbitch this," he said. "He don't tell me whar 'at money's at right now, I'm gonna haul out my Bowie knife, I'm gonna carve his greasy li'l head off'n his greasy li'l shoulders, I'm gonna hang his head up by the hair in 'at cottonwood tree 'hind the jailhouse, whar 'em crows'll peck his eyes out, an' I'm gonna feed his greasy li'l carcass to my hawgs!"

This was translated with appropriate gestures and emphasis. The bandit replied "Oigame! Conoce usted la casita de Juan Sanchez? Dos milas al oeste de este casita es un gran mesquite. Qunice pasos al sur de este mesquite es una piedra blanca. Abajo de este piedra es un pozo. En este pozo es todo el dinero del banco."

("Listen to me! Do you know the little house of Juan Sanchez? Two miles west of that little house is a big mesquite tree. Fifteen paces south of the tree is a white rock. Under the rock is a hole. In the hole is all the bank's money.)

"Todo? Diez mil dolares?"

"Si, todo—diez mil dolares."

"Whut'd he say, Guzman?"

"Senor Cheriff, theese hombre, he say you a cheeken-leever pussel-gut an' you ain't got the sand to keel nobody!"