Foy hurled himself on Creagan and bore him crashing to the floor.

Foy whirled over; he rose on one hand and knee, gun drawn, visibly annoyed; also considerably astonished at the unexpected advent of Mr.Pringle.Applegate lay groaning on the floor.

Pringle kicked his gun from the holster and set foot upon it; one of his own guns covered the bartender and the other kept watch on Espalin, silent on his still-tilted chair.
"Who're you!" challenged Foy.
"Friend with the countersign.

Don't shoot! Don't shoot me, anyhow." Foy rose from hand and knee to knee and foot.

This rescuer, so opportunely arrived from nowhere, seemed to be an ally.