Charlie Stuart, son of Grandville Stuart, came from one of Montana’s oldest and largest ranching families. He was an old man when Jay knew him but was still a top hand. How he lost his eye remains a mystery but Jay remembers him as a kind man who helped out a kid. Jay was on the payroll for $5 a day when he was only about 12. Charlie was sympathetic when Jay killed 13 sage hens. The crew was out of meat and sent Jay to get a couple of hens for dinner. Jay emptied his gun and thought he was doing the right thing. Charlie helped him bring in his kill, clean them and boil them up so they could be made into rubba-boo. It was a lesson learned and never again did Jay shoot more than he could immediately use. Jay, always the artist, drew pictures of the cattle herds and cowboys at the time of gathering and fall work. The Cowboys, including Charlie, acknowledged Jay’s skill with the pencil and encouraged him to keep his sketches. Of course, he didn’t. That old, one-eyed cowboy would have never imagined being immortalized in bronze by a kid from Beaver Creek, north of the Missouri River Breaks in central Montana.