It was evident that they were not there for fighting, and had no wish to defend their drunken companion, no matter what Frank's object in making the attack had been.
As Frank's only anxiety was in getting Mellor away, he did not attempt to stop the others from going out.
The rumpus attracted the attention of everybody in the main room of the saloon, and by the time the bartender had been sent to the floor a dozen or so others, most of them customers of the place, came crowding up to see what was the matter.
"Letsh not fight, Mer'well," said Mellor, with a tremendous attempt at dignity. "Letsh not get mixed up in a row."
He, too, tried to walk out, but the way was now barred with other bartenders who had come to the relief of their comrade.
They might have fallen upon Frank and beaten him badly, for they far outnumbered him, if it hadn't been that at that moment a policeman took a hand in the affair.
He had been passing the side door of the saloon at the very moment when Frank struck the glass from Mellor's hand.
He had entered at the first sound of a ruction, and had been in time to get a glimpse of Frank as he struck the bartender to the floor.
There was a lot of excitement and confusion for a moment, during which Frank stood with his fists still clinched and his jaws shut hard together, waiting for the next turn.
Everybody connected with the saloon denounced him as an intruder, and the one who had made all the trouble.