My Old Friend, Sturdy

Sturdy was one of the first people I met when I moved to Lance Creek. His sister owned the local tavern, where I soon became a regular. He was probably nearly 75 years old at that time. He had lived most of his life in Niobrara County. A hard drinkin' old cowboy, he would put away about a fifth of whiskey a week. He was still raising and starting colts when he was 83 or so. He died when he was 85.
In the course of a normal day, Sturdy would load a horse up in his pickup stockrack, go help someone ride to gather or work cattle, wind up back at the Pronghorn Tavern by two or three in the afternoon, then drink until his sister, Esther, who owned the place, had to pour him out the door. They fought like siblings, or worse. Esther would mix Sturdy a drink, and he'd look at it disapprovingly, and say, "I thought you might put a little whiskey in that." She'd get mad and pour him a straight shot with only three tiny ice cubes, and that would make him happy.
Esther and her husband, Jim, fought like cats and dogs. A lot of people in the community only went to the bar to see what they were fighting about that day. One fine Saturday morning, Sturdy and his stepson came in all dressed up and wanted Esther to cash a check for them, because they were going to a horse sale. Esther took their check, and said, "Oh, kid," she called everyone kid, "Jim just went up to the pasture and if you just wait a few minutes he'll be back, and I know he'll want to go with you." She fetched their liquid refreshments they'd ordered, and then just figeted with their check in her hands. After about twenty minutes, Pat, Sturdy's stepson, said, "Esther, we're in a hell of a hurry, would you just cash the check, or we're going to be late for the horse sale." Esther acted like she hadn't heard him.
Presently, Jim came tottering in the back door, and Esther lit into him like ugly on an ape. "Alright you old s.o.b. These guys are going to the horse sale, and I suppose you're going with them and leave me here to pack this beer all by myself!" She was using some reverse psychology, I think.
Jim covered his head and ran for his stool, "No, no, I'm not going anywhere," he said as he began reading his newspaper.
So Esther reluctantly fetched some cash from the drawer, handed it to Pat, and he and Sturdy went on to the horse sale.