But Jim kept his eyes fastened on Sir John. "If I were the man you think me," he said, "you would never have finished that sentence. You have evidently mistaken me for some one else. My name is Jim Carston, and I never took a penny that did not belong to me." Even to Sir John the words rang true, but he had lost all control—he was determined to avenge the old score of dishonor against his regiment. "Why, confound your impudence, there stands your cousin, Henry Kerhill!" The crowd swung around. This was the moment—it had been a day for Maverick. What were they now to learn of Cash’s "angel-face"? Henry crossed to Jim and faced him. There was a pause. "Yes," he answered, with as much nonchalance as he could assume, "I believe the gentleman does bear a certain bald resemblance to the man you mean, but it is evidently a case of mistaken identity." Diana’s eyes were following him with their mute appeal. He continued: "You will observe, Sir John, that I drank the toast. I trust you will not refuse to drink to our Queen with these gentlemen in a foreign country." The ranchmen liked these Englishmen. They were being treated with great consideration; the little one was amusing but he was all right. So ran the verdict of the Long Horn saloon. Sir John Applegate stood unconvinced. Henry’s eyes were fastened on him, and he read there something that held a reason for his denial. At all events he had been most unwise—he knew that now—and he must, for Diana’s sake, undo his hasty words. "Well, of course," he began, as he realized that further comment would be futile, "I was under the impression that I hadn’t had a drink—not one, by Jove! Well, I must be squiffy." The cow-punchers laughed. "Here’s," he finished, "to her Gracious Majesty the Queen—God bless her!" Big Bill, who would have been an arch-diplomat in another sphere of life, said: "Not forgettin’ his Gracious Majesty the President, you know." Sir John rose to the occasion. "Oh, quite so—his Royal Highness the President—God bless him!" The men slapped one another in appreciation of the joke. Sir John tried to drink the whiskey of the country, but with a sigh he said, after the first taste, "Say, as I must drink, please make it Scotch." During the scene in the saloon the car had drawn down the line and was shunting up and down the rails in a way comprehensible only to the powers that control an engine. Henry apprehensively looked towards the car, and went to meet Dan, whom he could see at the farther end of the platform. The meeting with Jim had been painful, and he was almost at his wits’ end. As he could not force Diana’s prompt withdrawal, he would fetch Dan to insist upon the passengers’ return to the car. Jim had seen Henry slip away unobserved. Would Diana and Sir John never go? He could see that the excitement was beginning to tell on Diana. Suddenly she swayed—yet he dared not go near her.