"Step up lively, sonny," Cash called to Sir John and Henry, "or you may have to dance the Highland fling."
Sir John stole a look of self-justification at Diana, but she did not see it. It was turning out just as he had told her.
"And shoot our toes off, by Jove," he whispered to Henry. "And he'll do it, too, confounded bounder!" he muttered, as both men went towards the bar and were met by Pete, who handed them each a glass of evil-looking whiskey.
Cash began to direct the scene. "Hand out the nose-paint, gents."
Every one took a drink, Jim too; for her sake he would do as Hawkins wished. It would be the quickest way to end this part of the business. The serious end of it would follow when they were alone.
Suddenly Cash, whose last two drinks were rendering him more offensive, and who was determined to annoy Sir John as well as Jim, said, "Gents, to the success of the Boers."
To the crowd it was a foolish toast; it meant nothing to them. But they had hardly begun to toss off their drinks when there came a crack of glass, as Sir John Applegate threw his tumbler on the floor and said, "No, I'll be damned."
Cash turned on him with an imprecation, and started to cover him with his gun. This unexpected diversion was the chance that Jim had been looking for. In an instant he had thrown his untasted liquor into Cash Hawkins's face. It blinded Cash. Involuntarily he fumbled with his guns, and in an instant Jim had thrust his revolver into Cash's side. There was a moment of pandemonium as Cash's imprecations filled the air. The men at the door started forward, but they had to pay for the moment's lowering of their guns. Big Bill and Jim's men had been eagerly watching their opportunity, and speedily covered Cash's gang.
"Put your hands up quick," Jim ordered.
Cash, with visible reluctance, complied. There was a suppressed madness of excitement in Jim's voice as he said to Sir John Applegate: "Oblige me by relieving the gentleman of his guns; it will tire him to hold it up there too long." Sir John obeyed. It was a critical moment—one never knew which way a crowd in a saloon would veer, and there might have been a riot if Cash had been more popular. As it happened there was a laugh at Jim's words. Sir John reached for the guns. Cash, gaunt and terrible to look at, stood still while they were taken from him. The pressure of the muzzle at his side caused him to loosen his final reluctant finger.