Yet, when Scottsbluff came into existence there were numbers of the old regime, who took it upon themselves to give the new town a touch of high life -- to stage a sort of a realism to the order, or lack of order that once obtained. This throwback of ten or twenty years was the end of the wild west in Scotts Bluff county. Naturally, there were some really lawless episodes instead of relaxation, for the evilly inclined always take advantage of a condition and throw in with innocent amusements and sometimes transform them into orgies that should not exist.

J. H. Casselman will remember to his dying day an affair that grew partly out of Casselman's opposition to the saloon. Some of the wild ones resented interference and set about to make things hum. Then there was a little bad blood between the two saloons, which added fuel to the flames. A partisan of one entered the other and hit John Eiler, the kindly and peaceable attendant at the bar in the other saloon, over the head with a beer bottle. Slim McClenahan was interested in the saloon where the affair was pulled off, and he grabbed his gun. He never waited for the ordinary method of getting the gun in action, but started a rapid fire, by striking the hammer part way back and releasing it. The cylinder was quickly emptied toward the offender, and one bullet hit his finger. He lost no time in going out of the door and across the street, where a tree that stood at the McCreary corner checked his progress for a moment. This tree bent under the impact of his body, but he soon went on his way with little diminishing of speed.