Furthermore the boys did enjoy seeing the gamblers duck for cover under the tables or behind the bar.

Red Path Bill, with moccasined feet, came silently in. His deep voice called for the strongest at the bar, and then, to the swinging doors of the inner room. Suddenly he was electrified. A heavy fist smote simultaneously each door, and they swung wide. With spectacular effect he had made an entrance. No one seemed to notice him, and he was offended.

"I'm Red Path Bill," he roared, and glared about to see if anyone dared dispute it. None

did. Instead, the man at the wheel droned : "Double OO in the green," and the rumble of "Deuce-Nine," or "a natural," or "an alsa," came from different parts of the room. These expressions may have been a reference to his entrance, or they may have referred to the plays at the different tables. Smiles here and there would have indicated the former. The games and the players went on as usual. Red Path Bill was offended. Somebody had killed his act in the vaudeville of life. He went about annoying the players, who tolerated him with rare good nature, until he trod upon the toes of a bystander.

Fred Ashford was working in the Union Pacific shops at the time. He had for several years whacked bulls on the Black Hills route for Billy Hecht. Fred was a man r f medium stature and prodigious strength. He quit freighting in 1882 and joined a cow outfit, and then later went into the shops.