Jack Morgan was a man of uncertain temper and he also had toes exceedingly tender.

He struck out, missed Billy, who was thinking only of the herder, and it looked quite as though the blow was meant for Mr.Dill.
After that, things happened quickly and with some confusion.

Others became active, one way or the other, and the clamor was great, so that it was easily heard down the street and nearly emptied the other saloons.
When the worst of it was over and one could tell for a certainty what was taking place, Charming Billy was holding a man's face tightly against the bar and was occasionally beating it with his fist none too gently.

Mr.Dill, an arm's length away, had Jack Morgan and one other offender clutched by the neck in either hand and he was solemnly and systematically butting their heads together until they howled.

The bartender had just succeeded in throwing the sheepherder out through the back door, and he was wiping his hands and feeling very well satisfied with himself.
"I'd oughta fired him long ago, when he first commenced building trouble," he remarked, to no one in particular.