Having pretended to drink, Frank stood back in a retired spot and looked the dancers over.
In a moment his eyes fell on Cimarron Bill, who had[Pg 289] a Mexican girl for a partner and was enjoying himself in his own peculiar way.
Frank knew it would not be safe to come face to face with Bill, although he saw at once that the desperado had been drinking heavily and could barely "navigate" through the mazes of the dance.
"Gents chassé and put on style,
Resash and a little more style—
Little more style, gents, little more style,"
sang the fiddler; and the dancers strictly obeyed the admonition by putting on all the style of which they were capable.
Under different circumstances Merry would have been amused by the spectacle; and even now, for all of his peril, he was greatly interested.
Cimarron Bill was not habitually a hard drinker, but on this occasion he had surprised everybody present by the amount of whisky he had imbibed. He seemed determined to get intoxicated, and it was plain that he was making a success of it.
Frank did not wish to dance if he could avoid it, knowing he might be brought face to face with Bill in the course of some of the figures.
All around the sides of the room men were leaning and looking on, some of them laughing and calling to various dancers.
"Go it, Seven Spot!"