
10/05/2025
Augustus “Gus” McCrae was the kind of Ranger Captain men followed not just out of duty, but out of sheer admiration. He carried himself with a swagger that could light up a campfire, laughing in the face of danger as if bullets were nothing more than buzzing flies. Yet beneath that easy charm was a steel-hard resolve — when Gus rode into trouble, the outlaws of Texas knew the day had turned against them.
His legend was built on more than a quick draw. Gus had the wit to outsmart horse thieves and the grit to stand toe-to-toe with Comanche raiding parties. He could drink with cowhands one night, then track desperadoes across the desert by dawn, never losing his good humor or his edge. More than once, men swore his laughter could be heard even in the middle of a firefight — steadying his Rangers as much as his revolver ever did.
Stories spread across the frontier like wildfire. How he rode through a storm of lead to pull a wounded Ranger from an ambush. How he bluffed a gang into surrendering by convincing them he had fifty men hidden in the brush, when in truth he had only three. Gus McCrae wasn’t just a captain — he was the kind of man who made the Rangers a legend themselves. And though time turned him into a half-mythical figure, those who once rode beside him never forgot the truth: courage could wear a smile, and justice sometimes came with a joke on its lips