With swaggering gestures Cash announced his business so that all could hear him. Bill whispered to the boys, who, going on with their game, were still listening and watching Cash intently: "You know what that skunk’s up to now. He’s got Tabywana drunk—been at it for days—in order to swindle him out of his cattle." Shorty, with all of the cow-boy’s intolerance of the red man’s rights, snapped, "Well, it don’t make much difference about Injins." "No," growled Grouchy, "guv’ment supports ’em anyway." Nick had unearthed a bottle of ink. "Well," he said, as he handed it across the bar, "that was ink once, Cash. ’Ain’t had no use for it sense my gal throwed me. Gits more people into trouble. Often wisht I was illiterate." Nick’s dry humor betrayed his descent from the Emerald Isle. Cash paid no attention to Nick’s attempts at conversation. He was filling his glass and surveying the crowds at the various tables. It annoyed him that no one had greeted him with any particular show of enthusiasm. Save for a "How d’ye," or a nod from some of the hangers-on, no one had particularly noticed him. He stood against the bar, and without turning his body directed his words towards Big Bill and Jim’s men at a table near him. With a truculent swagger he blew his cigarette smoke through his nostrils. "There’s just one thing I can’t stand for," he began, "and that’s an Englishman." There was a movement from Jim’s men, but it was quickly controlled. Cash went on: "He’s a blot on any landscape, and wherever I see him I shall wipe him off the map. He is distinctly no good. We whipped ’em once, and we kin do it again. They ’ain’t never whipped nuthin’ but niggers and savages. The Englishman is a coward and any American who works for him is a cur." With one movement Andy, Shorty, and Grouchy rose and their hands went to their guns, but almost before they had clutched them Bill was towering over them. With one hand he pushed Grouchy, and with the other gripped the shoulders of Shorty and Andy, until he forced them down into their chairs. "Leave him to me," was all he said, and the men sullenly subsided under their foreman’s orders. Bill stood looking at Cash. He wanted to gain time and not take any notice of insults from him until it was so directly levelled that they could no longer endure it. He wished Jim would come; it was time for him. He wanted to finish some details of the shipping and then get their men to leave Maverick. Cash saw Bill’s command of the men; he ground his jaw with ugly grating sounds from his big white teeth. Looking directly at Bill, he said, "There is a certain outfit been a circilatin’ reports derogitory to my standin’ in this here kummunity, and before the day is over I will round up said outfit and put my brand on ’em." As he spoke he touched his gun. "Same as you been a-puttin’ it on their cattle?" Bill remarked, coldly.