And so passed the first quarter century and one year besides of football at the youngish University of Oklahoma, from the time beloved President Boyd… - Harold Keith

Few Americans know how savagely the Civil War raged or how strange and varied were its issues in what is now Oklahoma and the neighboring states of Kansas, Missouri and Arkansas. Rifles for Watie was faithfully written against the historical backdrop of the conflict in this seldom-publicized, Far-Western theater.

Track and field events get you outdoors, improve health, are not as dangerous or as expensive as other sports, require very little equipment, and can be indulged in any time of the year one wishes. Moreover, running is the basis for nearly every other sport on the calendar and therefore part of the training routine for each.

And that wasn't all. At six o'clock in the morning of the last day of March, a muffled buzzing cut insistently through the darkness at the Driskill home. Awakening, Lee raised his head. It was the telephone, and its strident summons, pealing at regular intervals, alarmed him with its possibility of accident or disaster. He walked barefoot into the living room to answer it. "Hello?" he answered sleepily. "Lee Driskill? This is Judge Rutherford. Do you and Mrs. Driskill still want to adopt a baby? There's one available at the Baptist Hospital in Seymour City. Third floor. Born yesterday. It's not a boy. Everybody wants a boy, and we're fresh out. This one's a girl. The adoption people say she's yours, right now, if you want her." Wild with excitement, Lee tried to swallow but couldn't. "You bet we want her, Judge. We'll dress quickly and jump in the car. It's only a hundred and fifteen miles. The road through this old shortgrass country is flat and easy." His hand shook as he hung up the telephone. Three years ago he would have insisted on a son. But not anymore. He hurried into the bedroom to waken Jean.