Del Bishop, who had edged in, let drive promptly at the man who had attacked his employer, and the fight became general.

The crowd took sides on the moment and went at it.
Colonel Trethaway forgot that the heats of life had passed, and swinging a three-legged stool, danced nimbly into the fray.

A couple of mounted police, on liberty, joined him, and with half a dozen others safeguarded the man with the wolf-skin cap.
Fierce though it was, and noisy, it was purely a local disturbance.

At the far end of the bar the barkeepers still dispensed drinks, and in the next room the music was on and the dancers afoot.

The gamblers continued their play, and at only the near tables did they evince any interest in the affair.
"Knock'm down an' drag'm out!" Del Bishop grinned, as he fought for a brief space shoulder to shoulder with Corliss.
Corliss grinned back, met the rush of a stalwart dog-driver with a clinch, and came down on top of him among the stamping feet.