In the brief colloquy which took place between them, Plummer asked Crawford no less than three times what Jack had said about him. His past career of crime was all before him. Crawford as often replied, “Nothing.” “’Tis well he did not,” at length responded Plummer, “for if he had I would kill him in his bed.” Crawford then told him that, in reply to several questions asked him, Cleveland had said, “Poor Jack has got no friends. He has got it [meaning his death-wound] and I guess he can stand it.” Crawford left with the impression that Plummer still thought Cleveland had exposed him, and was careful afterwards to go armed, as he felt that his own life was in danger. Cleveland lingered in great agony for three hours, and was decently buried by Crawford. Soon after he had been removed to Crawford’s cabin, Plummer sent a man known as “Dock,” a cook, into the cabin as a spy, where he remained until Cleveland died. He said that the only reply Phleger received to repeated questions concerning the difficulty between him and Plummer was, “It makes no difference to you.” The secret, if secret there was, died with him. No immediate investigation was made of the circumstances of this affray. It was thought by many that Plummer merely anticipated Cleveland’s intention by firing first. Shooting of pistols and duelling were so common as of themselves to excite no attention. Many bloody encounters took place of which no record has been preserved, and which at the time were regarded as very proper settlements of difficulties between the parties. A few incidents as illustrative of the customs of a mining camp will not be out of place in this immediate connection. On one occasion during the winter a quarrel sprung up between George Ives and George Carrhart in the main street. After a long wordy war interlarded with much profanity and various opprobrious epithets, Ives ran into a near saloon for his pistol, exclaiming, “I will shoot you.” Carrhart followed him and both reappeared at the door of the saloon a moment thereafter, each armed with a revolver. Facing each other upon the instant, both parties raised their pistols and fired without effect. After a second fire with no better effect, both parties walked rapidly backwards till they were widely separated, at the same time firing upon each other. Ives having emptied his revolver, stood perfectly still while Carrhart took deliberate aim and shot him in the groin, the ball passing through his body, inflicting a severe wound. Soon afterwards they reconciled their difficulties, and Ives lived with Carrhart on his ranche the remainder of the winter.