"A little more uh that war-talk and I'll start in and learn yuh some
manners. I don't want any more of it. Yuh hear?"

It is a fact that trifles sometimes breed large events. Billy, to make
good his threat, jumped off the bar. In doing so he came down upon
the toes of Jack Morgan, the hospitable soul who had insisted upon
treating Mr. Dill and who had just come up to renew the argument. Jack
Morgan was a man of uncertain temper and he also had toes exceedingly
tender. He struck out, missed Billy, who was thinking only of the
herder, and it looked quite as though the blow was meant for Mr. Dill.

After that, things happened quickly and with some confusion. Others
became active, one way or the other, and the clamor was great, so
that it was easily heard down the street and nearly emptied the other
saloons.

When the worst of it was over and one could tell for a certainty what
was taking place, Charming Billy was holding a man's face tightly
against the bar and was occasionally beating it with his fist none too
gently. Mr. Dill, an arm's length away, had Jack Morgan and one other
offender clutched by the neck in either hand and he was solemnly and
systematically butting their heads together until they howled. The
bartender had just succeeded in throwing the sheepherder out through
the back door, and he was wiping his hands and feeling very well
satisfied with himself.

"I'd oughta fired him long ago, when he first commenced building
trouble," he remarked, to no one in particular. "The darned
lamb-licker--he's broke and has been all evening. I don't know what
made me stand for 'im long as I did."