Next day Charlie Russell saw him out back of the saloon, sitting on a box and looking very tough. He would put his hands over his mouth, breath into them, drop them and look at them and shake his head. Of course, Charlie knew what was the trouble as he had helped to fix him up the night before. Charlie went over to him and asked, “How are you stacking up today?” Old Bill looked at him in a kind of a daze and shook his head. “Me? I’m not so good.” Charlie asked, “What’s the matter, are you sick?” “No-o-o not more than usual, I’ve felt as bad as this a thousand times. But—oh God—” then he covered his face again with his hands. After a few seconds he slowly lowered them, shaking his head and groaning, “Oh, it’s something awful, I don’t savvy.” Charlie very much in sympathy with him said, “What seems to be the matter, Bill?” “Damned if I know, but I’ve got the awfullest breath on me. ’Pears like I am plum spoiled inside. You can tell the boys my stay here on earth is damn short. Nobody could live long with the kind of breath I’ve got on me. Oh, oh!” Then he would breathe into his hands again, saying, “Oh God!” I believe he would have died if they hadn’t told him what was the matter. All the years I knew Charlie, I never knew him to go to church (although I know he was a real Christian at heart) but there was an old time preacher, a Methodist by name Van Orsdell. He preached in cow camps, school houses or anywhere that he could get even a few people. Brother Van told me when he graduated from the ministry he came up the Missouri River on a steam boat to Fort Benton. He had a very good voice. He said he sang hymns to pay his fare. That must have been in the early 1870’s. When I knew him first, he used to ride horseback through the country and hold services, and he was sure loved by everybody. I listened to one of his sermons in the cow country and there was quite a sprinkling of cattle rustlers in that locality and I remember in his talk he told us if we would do as God wanted us to do we wouldn’t need a fast horse and a long rope. He told us he overtook a bull whacker (a freighter) pulling a big hill out of Fort Benton one time. Brother Van was riding a horse and he followed along behind this fellow and the language he used for those cattle was sure strong. He said the fellow called each steer by some religious name with an oath after it, such as Methodist, Baptist, Presbyterian, and so forth.