My Great, Great Grandmother was driving through Midland, Texas, sometime in the 1920s and stopped her car at an intersection. It was the oil boom and some 60 years off the War of Northern Aggression.
A man appeared at the door and demanded she give him her money. She reached inside the glove compartment of her vehicle and produced a revolver, which she pointed directly at that man's face. He ran.
They were made of stern stuff, those women.
I file this narrative under "frontier justice" in '20s Texas.
Your Old Friend,
LSP
