Opportunity stepped in front of a big husky fellow, squared himself off, 'and with a wicked leer in his bleared eyes said, "I'm a fighter I am, I can lick any man in Chadron." The stranger looking into those fierce blood shot eyes evidently thought it was now or never with him and struck out with all his might. The blow caught Hank on the jaw and the stranger made a quick get away. After a brief space Opportunity raised up, gazed around a moment in evident disgust, and remarked, "I guess I ain't no fighter, ain't I ?"

The Gold Bar saloon, which was located in the building in recent years occupied by Phillips Book Store on the corner of Main and Second street, had a den of wildcats, which were kept on the walk outside the building, and, believe me, they were some fierce wildcats, too. Opportunity stopped before the cage one afternoon, watched the animals for a short period and evidently believed he could cover himself with glory by licking them all at once. He removed his coat and vest, looked up and down the street, to see if anyone was watching him, then rolled up his sleeves. By that time he had attracted the attention of quite a crowd, which gathered around him. He informed the gathering multitude that he could "lick any wildcat God ever made," and plunged his bare hand between the bars of the cage in an attempt to grasp the enemy. The cats were s~me fighters themselves and tore his hands almost to rags. Opportunity withdrew his torn and bleeding hands, looked at the crowd with apparently injured feelings, and remarked that "I guess I can't lick any wildcat that God ever made," and hurried away to some more secluded spot.