But at the time of which this story treats a missionary would have fared even worse, for the boys where wholly absorbed by a very unrighteous, but still very darling, pleasure.  A pair of veteran knifeists, who had fought each other at sight for almost ten years every time they met, had again found themselves in the same settlement, and Hanney’s had the honor to be that particular settlement.  “Judge” Briggs, one of the heroes, had many years before discussed with his neighbor, Billy Bent, the merits of two opposing brands of mining shovels.  In the course of the chat they drank considerable villainous whisky, and naturally resorted to knives as final arguments.  The matter might have ended here, had either gained a decided advantage over the other; but both were skillful—­each inflicted and received so near the same number of wounds, that the wisest men in camp were unable to decide which whipped.  Now, to average Californians in the mines this is a most distressing state of affairs; the spectators and friends of the combatants waste a great deal of time, liquor, and blood on the subject, while the combatants themselves feel unspeakably uneasy on the neutral ground between victory and defeat.  At Sonora, where Billy and the Judge had their first encounter, there was no verdict, so the Judge indignantly shook the dust from his feet and went elsewhere.  Soon Billy happened in at the same place, and a set-to occurred at sight, in which the average was no disarranged.  Both men went about, for a month or two, in a patched-up condition, and then Billy roamed off, to be soon met by the Judge with the usual result.  Both men were known by reputation all through the gold regions, and the advent of either at any “gulch,” or “washin’,” was the best advertisement the saloon-keepers could desire.  In the East, hundreds of men would have tried to reason the men out of this feud, and some few would have forcibly separated them while fighting; but in the diggings any interference in such matters is considered impertinent, and deserving of punishment.

[Illustration:  ’THOMPSON GRACEFULLY CONCLUDED HIS SERVICE BY PASSING THE HAT.’]

Hanney’s had been fairly excited for a week, for the Judge had arrived the week before, and his points had been carefully scrutinized and weighed, time and again, by every man in the camp.  There seemed nothing unusual about him—­he was of middle size, and long hair and beard, a not unpleasant expression, and very dirty clothes; he never jumped a claim, always took his whisky straight, played as fair a game of poker as the average of the boys, and never stole a mule from any one whiter than a Mexican.  The boys had just about ascertained all this, and made their “blind” bets on the result of the next fight, when the whole camp was convulsed with the intelligence that Billy Bent had also arrived.  Work immediately ceased, except in the immediate vicinity of the champions, and the boys stuck close to the chapel, that being the spot where the encounter should