Sam Bender stood just a hair over six feet tall in his Olathe mule hide boots. His wrangler jeans, while clean were faded and brush scarred. His straw hat pulled low over his forehead as he strolled along the side walk in front of the Cozy Spot.

A drunk Indian lay sprawled across the sidewalk, half propped up against the wall. Sam's denim Levis were caked in dust. As he walked by, the Indian reached out a foot trying to trip Sam. When Sam stepped around and looked down, he saw Ralston's black eyes under a greasy ball cap.