"Oh yes—Cash." With the remembrance of Hawkins came the resolve to remain in the saloon until Diana left. He must be there to protect her if necessary. "I'd forgotten Cash; I was thinking of something else, Bill." Then, as he encountered Bill's searching eyes, he added, "Oh yes; remember, if Cash returns, each of you pick your man and leave him to me."

He drew closer to the crowd at the bar; Diana was not likely to venture there. She had joined Henry, and, with Sir John, they were about to leave the place.

Suddenly there was the sound of the clattering of a troop outside. At every entrance to the saloon—and there were four—a man entered flourishing a gun, while through the centre door rushed Cash, who by this time had worked himself up into a frenzy of passion. Straight into the ceiling he shot his revolver, and said:

"Nick, every one in the Long Horn drinks with me."

Every means of egress was barred by Hawkins's men. Jim drew behind Bill's burly figure. If only Cash would allow the strangers to go, was his one thought. Henry looked at Sir John; Diana, half frightened, grasped a chair. The men in the place made a hurried rush towards the bar; deep in rows they stood there. Then Cash noticed the three figures; but it only added to the zest of the situation for him. Diana, watching his cruel face, realized that Sir John's yarn of adventure might prove a true one.

The saloon waited in silence.

CHAPTER XVI

Cash had been drinking heavily all day, but there was no sign that it had weakened his faculties. On the contrary, the exhilaration of the liquor served to strengthen his dogged humor as he compelled the inmates of the saloon, strangers and all, to do his bidding.

"By Jove, Di, we are in for it," Sir John muttered. Then he turned irritably to Henry, who was close to him, "You have let us get in for a nice mess up." He was not afraid, but more than anything in the world he disliked a scene. He had travelled enough to know that they were at the mercy of the rough humor of these men. When occasion warranted he could match others in decision and courage, but he also knew that the consequences of the present situation were apt to be needlessly unpleasant. From the beginning he had been averse to Henry's allowing Diana to come with them; however, they must find a way out of it. He began to survey the crowd of men critically.

Jim, who was watching Diana, spoke, though still hidden among the crowd at the bar.