David did not see them.

He reached out his hand for the glass he had just emptied, and steadying himself by a mighty effort, flung it swift and straight in Jim Wigson's face.

There was a crash of fragments, a line of blood appeared on the young carter's chin, and a chorus of wrath and alarm rose from the group behind him.
With a furious oath Jim placed a hand on the bar, vaulted it, and fell upon the lad.

David defended himself blindly, but he was dazed with drink, and his blows and kicks rained aimlessly on Wigson's iron frame.

In a second or two Jim had tripped him up, and stood over him, his face ablaze with vengeance and conquest.
'Yo yoong varmint--yo cantin yoong hypocrite! I'll teach yo to show imperence to your betters.