We stopped the quarrel and made known our decision, whereupon Helms went off muttering vengeance.
We now went back to our work again at our claims, mine being between Helms' cabin and the saloon.

Holman stopped to talk a little while on my claim, while I was down below at work, and soon Helms came back again in a terrible rage, stopping on the opposite side of the hole from Holman, swearing long and loud, and flourishing a big pistol with which he threatened to blow Holman into purgatory.

He was so much enraged that he fairly frothed at the mouth like a rabid dog.

The men were about twenty feet apart, and I at the bottom of the hole ten feet below, but exactly between them.

It seemed to me that I was in some little danger for Helms had his big pistol at full cock, and as it pointed at me quite as often as it did at anybody, I expect I dodged around a little to keep out of range.