The morning had scarcely dawned when Wilhelmina dashed up the trail and looked down on the Sink below; and Wunpost had been right, where before all was empty, now the Death Valley Trail was alive. From Blackwater to Wild Rose Wash the dust rose up in clouds, each streamer boring on towards the north; and already the first stampeders had passed out of sight in their rush for the Black Point strike. It lay beyond North Pass, cut off from view by the shoulder of a long, low ridge; but there it was, and her claim and Wunpost’s was already swarming with men. The whole town of Blackwater had risen up in the night and gone streaking across the Sink, and what was to keep those envious pocket-miners from claiming the find for their own? And Dusty Rhodes–he must have led the stampede–had he respected his partners’ rights? She gazed a long moment, then darted back through the tunnel and bore the news to her father and Wunpost.
He had slept in the hay, this hardy desert animal, this shabby, penniless man with the loud voice of a demagogue and the profile of a bronze Greek god;43and he came forth boldly, like Odysseus of old when, cast ashore on a strange land, he roused from his sleep and beheld Nausicaa and her maidens at play. But as Nausicaa, the princess, withstood his advance when all her maidens had fled, so Wilhelmina faced him, for she knew full well now that he was not a god. He was a water-hole prospector who for two idle years had eaten the bread of Judson Eells; and then, when chance led him to a rich vein of ore, had covered up the hole and said nothing. Yet for all his human weaknesses he had one godlike quality, a regal disregard for wealth; for he had kept his plighted word and divided, half and half, this mine towards which all Blackwater now rushed. She looked at him again and her rosy lips parted–he had earned the meed of a smile.
The day had dawned auspiciously, as far as Billy was concerned, for she was back in her overalls and her father had consented to take her along to the mine. The claim was part hers and Wunpost had insisted that she accompany them back to the strike. Dusty Rhodes would be there, with his noisy demands and his hints at greater rights in the claim; and in the first wild rush complications might arise that would call for a speedy settlement. But with Billy at his side and Cole Campbell as a witness, every detail of their agreement could be proved on the instant and the Willie Meena started off right. So Wunpost smiled back when he beheld the make-believe boy who had come to his aid on her mule; and as they rode off down the canyon, driving four44burros, two packed with water, he looked her over approvingly.
In skirts she had something of the conventional reserve which had always made him scared of women; but as a boy, as Billy, she was one partner in a thousand, and as carefree as the wind. Upon the back of her saddle, neatly tied up in a bag, she carried the dress that she would wear at the mine; but riding across the mesa on the lonely Indian trail she clung to the garb of utility. In overalls she had ridden up and down the corkscrew canyon that led to her father’s mine; she had gone out to hunt for burros, dragged in wood and carried up water and done the daily duties of a man. Both her brothers were gone, off working in the mines, and their tasks descended to her; until in stride and manner and speech she was by instinct, a man and only by thought a woman.
The years had slipped by, even her mother had hardly noticed how she too had grown up like the rest; and now in one day she had stepped forth into their councils and claimed her place as a man. Yes, that was the place that she had instinctively claimed but they had given her the place of a woman. When it came to prospecting among the lonely peaks she could go as far as she chose; but in the presence of men, even as an owner in the great mine, she must confine her free limbs within skirts. And, though she had come of age, she was still in tutelage–with two men along to do her thinking. Wunpost had made it easy, all she had to do was stand pat and45agree to whatever he said; and her father was there to protect her in her rights and preserve the family honor from loose tongues.
They skirted the edge of the valley, keeping up above the Sink and crossing an endless series of rocky washes, until as they topped the last low ridge the Black Point lay before them, surrounded by a swarm of digging men. It jutted out from the ridge, a round volcanic cone sticking up through the shattered porphyry; and yet this point of rock, all but buried in the wash of centuries, held a treasure fit to ransom a king. It held the Willie Meena mine, which had lain there by the trail while thousands of adventurers hurried past; until at last Wunpost had stopped to examine it and had all but perished of thirst. But one there was who had seen him, and saved him from the Sink, and loaned him her mule to ride; and in honor of her, though he could not spell her name, he had called it the Willie Meena.
Billy sat on Tellurium and gazed with rapt wonder at the scene which stretched out below. Wagons and horses everywhere, and automobiles too, and dejected-looking burros and mules; and in the rough hills beyond men were climbing like goats as they staked the lava-crowned buttes. A procession of Indian wagons was filing up the gulch to haul water from Wild Rose Spring and already the first tent of what would soon be a city was set up opposite the point. In a few hours there would be twenty up, in a few days a hundred, in a few months it would be46a town; and all named for her, who had been given a half by Wunpost and yet had hardly murmured her thanks. She turned to him smiling but as she was about to speak her father caught her eye.
“Put on your dress,” he said, and she retired, red with chagrin, to struggle into that accursed badge of servitude. It was hot, the sun boiled down as it does every day in that land where the rocks are burned black; and, once she was dressed, she could not mount her mule without seeming to be immodest. So she followed along behind them, leading Tellurium by his rope, and entered her city of dreams unnoticed. Calhoun strode on before her, while Campbell rounded up the burros, and the men from Blackwater stared at him. He was a stranger to them all, but evidently not to boom camps, for he headed for the solitary tent.
“Good morning to you, gentlemen,” he called out in his great voice; “won’t you join me–let’s all have a drink!”
The crowd fell in behind him, another crowd opened up in front, and he stood against the bar, a board strewn thick with glasses and tottering bottles of whiskey. An old man stood behind it, wagging his beard as he chewed tobacco, and as he set out the glasses he glanced up at Wunpost with a curious, embittered smile. He was white-faced and white-bearded, stooped and gnarled like a wind-tortured tree, and the crook to his nose made one think instinctively of pictures of the Wandering Jew. Or47perhaps it was the black skull-cap, set far back on his bent head, which gave him the Jewish cast; but his manner was that of the rough-and-ready barkeeper and he slapped one wet hand on the bar.
“Here’s to her!” cried Wunpost, ignoring the hint to pay as he raised his glass to the crowd. “Here’s to the Willie Meena–some mine!”
He tossed off the drink, but when he looked for the chaser the barkeeper shook his head.
“No chasers,” he said, “water is too blasted scarce–that’ll be three dollars and twenty-five cents.”
“Charge it to ground-rent!” grinned Wunpost. “I’m the man that owns this claim. See you later–where’s Dusty Rhodes?”
“No–cash!” demanded the barkeeper, looking him coldly in the eye. “I’m in on this claim myself.”
“Since when?” inquired Wunpost. “Maybe you don’t know who I am? I am John C. Calhoun, the man that discovered Wunpost; and unless I’m greatly mistaken you’re not in on anything–who gave you any title to this ground?”
“Dusty Rhodes,” croaked the saloon-keeper, and a curse slipped past Wunpost’s lips, though he knew that a lady was near.
“Well, damn Dusty Rhodes!” he cried in a passion. “Where is the crazy fool?”
He burst from the crowd just as Dusty came hurrying across from where he had been digging out ore; and for a minute they stood clamoring, both48shouting at once, until at last Wunpost seized him by the throat.
“Who’s this old stiff with whiskers?” he yelled into his ear, “that thinks he owns the whole claim? Speak up, or I’ll wring your neck!”
He released his hold and Dusty Rhodes staggered back, while the crowd looked on in alarm.
“W’y, that’s Whiskers,” explained Dusty, “the saloon-keeper down in Blackwater. I guess I didn’t tell you but he give me a grubstake and so he gits half my claim.”
“Yourclaim!” echoed Wunpost. “Since when was this your claim? You doddering old tarrapin, you only own one-third of it–and that ain’t yours, by rights. How much do you claim, I say?”
“W’y–I only claim one third,” responded Dusty weakly, “but Whiskers, he claims that I’m entitled to a half─”
“A half!” raged Wunpost, starting back towards the saloon. “I’ll show the old billygoat what he owns!”
He kicked over the bar with savage destructiveness, jerking up a tent-peg with each brawny hand, and as the old man cowered he dragged the tent forward until it threatened every moment to come down.
“Git out of here!” he ordered, “git off of my ground! I discovered this claim and it’s located in my name–now git, before I break you in two!”
“Here, here!” broke in Cole Campbell, laying a hand on Wunpost’s arm as the saloon-keeper began49suddenly to beg, “let’s not have any violence. What’s the trouble?”
“Why, this old spittoon-trammer,” began Wunpost in a fury, “has got the nerve to claim half my ground. I’ve been beat out of one claim, but this time it’s different–I’ll show him who owns this ground!”
“I just claim a quarter of it!” snapped old Whiskers vindictively. “I claim half of Dusty Rhodes’ share. He was working on my grubstake–and he was with you when you made your strike.”
“He was not!” denied Wunpost, “he went off and left me. Did you find his name on the notice? No, you found John C. Calhoun and Williemeena Campbell, the girl that loaned me her mule. We’re the locators of this property, and, just to keep the peace, we agreed to give Dusty one third; but that ain’t a half and if you say it is again, out you go–I’ll throw you off my claim!”
“Well, a third, then,” screeched Old Whiskers, holding his hands about his ears, “but for cripes’ sake quit jerking that tent! Ain’t a third enough to give me a right to put up my tent on the ground?”
“It is if I say so,” replied Wunpost authoritatively, “and if Williemeena Campbell consents. But git it straight now–we’re running this property and you and Dusty arenothing. You’re the minority, see, and if you make a crooked move we’ll put you both off the claim. Can you git that through your head?”
“Well, I guess so,” grumbled Whiskers, stooping50to straighten up his bar, and Wunpost winked at the crowd.
“Set ’em up again!” he commanded regally and all Blackwater drank on the house.
Having established his rights beyond the peradventure of a doubt, the imperious Wunpost left Old Whiskers to recoup his losses and turned to the wide-eyed Wilhelmina. She had been standing, rooted to the earth, while he assaulted Old Whiskers and Rhodes; and as she glanced up at him doubtfully he winked and grinned back at her and spoke from behind the cover of his hand.
“That’s the system!” he said. “Git the jump on ’em–treat ’em rough! Come on, let’s go look at our mine!”
He led the way to Black Point, where the bonanza vein of quartz came down and was buried in the sand; and while the crowd gazed from afar they looked over their property, though Billy moved like one in a dream. Her father was engaged in placating Dusty Rhodes and in explaining their agreement to the rest, and she still felt surprised that she had ever consented to accompany so desperate a ruffian. Yet as he knocked off a chunk of ore and showed her the specks of gold, scattered through it with such prodigal richness, she felt her old sense of security return; for he had never been rough with52her. It was only with Old Whiskers, the grasping Blackwater saloon-keeper, and with the equally avaricious Dusty Rhodes–who had been trying to steal more than their share of the prospect and to beat her out of her third. They had thought to ignore her, to brush her aside and usurp her share in the claim; but Wunpost had defended her and protected her rights and put them back where they belonged. And it was for this that he had seized Dusty Rhodes by the throat and kicked down the saloon-keeper’s bar. But she wondered what would happen if, at some future time, she should venture to oppose his will.
The vein of quartz which had caught Wunpost’s eye was enclosed within another, not so rich, and a third mighty ledge of low-grade ore encased the two of them within its walls. This big dyke it was which formed the backbone of the point, thrusting up through the half-eroded porphyry; and as it ran up towards its apex it was swallowed and overcapped by the lava from the old volcanic cone.
“Look at that!” exclaimed Wunpost, knocking off chunk after chunk; and as a crowd began to gather he dug down on the richest streak, giving the specimens to the first person who asked. The heat beat down upon them and Campbell called Wilhelmina to the shelter of his makeshift tent, but on the ledge Wunpost dug on untiringly while the pocket-miners gathered about. They knew, if he did not, the value of those rocks which he dispensed like so much dirt, and when he was not looking they gathered up the leavings and even knocked off more for themselves.53There had been hungry times in the Blackwater district, and some of this quartz was half gold.
An Indian wood-hauler came down from Wild Rose Spring with his wagon filled with casks of water, and as he peddled his load at two-bits a bucket the camp took on a new lease of life. Old Whiskers served a chaser with each drink of whiskey; coffee was boiled and cooking began; and all the drooping horses were banded together and driven up the canyon to the spring. It was only nine miles, and the Indians would keep on hauling, but already Wunpost had planned to put in a pipe-line and make Willie Meena a town. He stood by Campbell’s tent while the crowd gathered about and related the history of his strike, and then he went on with his plans for the mine and his predictions of boom times to come.
“Just you wait,” he said, bulking big in the moonlight; “you wait till them Nevada boomers come. Things are dead over there–Keno and Wunpost are worked out; they’ll hit for this camp to a man. And when they come, gentlemen, you want to be on your ground, because they’ll jump anything that ain’t held down. Just wait till they see this ore and then watch their dust–they’ll stake the whole country for miles–but I’ve only got one claim, and I’m going to stay on it, and the first man that jumps it will get this.”
He slapped the big pistol that he had borrowed from Wilhelmina and nodded impressively to the crowd; and the next morning early he was over at the hole, getting ready for the rush that was to come.54For the news of the strike had gone out from Blackwater on the stage of the evening before, and the moment it reached the railroad it would be wired to Keno and to Tonopah and Goldfield beyond. Then the stampede would begin, over the hills and down into Death Valley and up Emigrant Wash to the springs; and from there the first automobiles would burn up the ground till they struck Wild Rose Canyon and came down. Wunpost got out a hammer and drill, and as he watched for the rush he dug out more specimens to show. Wilhelmina stood beside him, putting the best of them into an ore-sack and piling the rest on the dump; and as he met her glad smile he laid down his tools and nodded at her wisely.
“Big doings, kid,” he said. “There’s some rock that’ll make ’em scream. D’ye remember what I said about Dusty Rhodes? Well, maybe I didn’t call the turn–he did just exactly what I said. When he got to Blackwater he claimed the strike was his and framed it up with Whiskers to freeze us out. They thought they had us jumped–somebody knocked down my monument, and that’s a State Prison offense–but I came back at ’em so quick they were whipped before they knew it. They acknowledged that the claim was mine. Well, all right, kid, let’s keep it; you tag right along with me and back up any play that I make, and if any of these boomers from Nevada get funny we’ll give ’em the gate, the gate!”
He did a little dance and Billy smiled back feebly,55for it was all very bewildering to her. She had expected, of course, a certain amount of lawless conduct; but that Dusty Rhodes, an old friend of their family, should conspire to deprive her of her claim was almost inconceivable. And that Wunpost should instantly seize him by the throat and force him to renounce his claims was even more surprising. But of course he had warned her, he had told her all about it, and predicted even bolder attempts; and yet here he was, digging out the best of his ore to give to these same Nevada burglars.
“What do you give them all the ore for?” she asked at last. “Why don’t you keep it, and we can pound out the gold?”
“We have to play the game, kid,” he answered with a shrug. “That’s the way they always do.”
“Yes, but I should think it would only make them worse. When they see how rich it is maybe someone will try to jump us–do you think Judson Eells will come?”
“Sure he’ll come,” answered Wunpost. “He’ll be one of the first.”
“And will you give him a specimen?”
“Surest thing–I’ll give him a good one. I believe that’s a machine, up the wash.”
He shaded his eyes, and as they gazed up the winding canyon a monster automobile swung around the curve. A flash and it was gone, only to rush into view a second time and come bubbling and thundering down the wash. It drew up before the point and four men leapt out and headed straight for the hole;56not a word was said, but they seemed to know by instinct just where to find the mine. Wunpost strode to meet them and greeted them by name, they came up and looked at the ground; and then, as another machine came around the point, they asked him his price, for cash.
“Nothing doing, gentlemen,” answered Wunpost. “It’s too good to sell. It’ll pay from the first day it’s worked.”
He went down to meet the second car of stampeders, and his answer to them was the same. And each time he said it he turned to Wilhelmina, who gravely nodded her head. It was his mine; he had found it and only given her a share of it, and of course they must stand together; but as machine after machine came whirling down the canyon and the bids mounted higher and higher a wistful look came into Wilhelmina’s eye and she went down and sat with her father. It was for him that she wanted the money that was offered her–to help him finish the road he had been working on so long–but she did not speak, and he too sat silent, looking on with brooding eyes. Something seemed to tell them both that trouble was at hand, and when, after the first rush, a single auto rumbled in, Billy rose to her feet apprehensively. A big man with red cheeks, attired in a long linen duster, descended from the curtained machine, and she flew to the side of Wunpost.
It was Judson Eells; she would know him anywhere from the description that Wunpost had given,57and as he came towards the hole she took in every detail of this man who was predestined to be her enemy. He was big and fat, with a high George the Third nose and the florid smugness of a country squire, and as he returned Wunpost’s greeting his pendulous lower lip was thrust up in arrogant scorn. He came on confidently, and behind him like a shadow there followed a mysterious second person. His nose was high and thin, his cheeks gaunt and furrowed, and his eyes seemed brooding over some terrible wrong which had turned him against all mankind. At first glance his face was terrifying in its fierceness, and then the very badness of it gave the effect of a caricature. His eyebrows were too black, his lips too grim, his jaw too firmly set; and his haggard eyes looked like those of a woman who is about to burst into hysterical tears. It was Pisen-face Lynch, and as Wunpost caught his eye he gave way to a mocking smirk.
“Ah, good morning, Mr. Eells,” he called out cordially, “good morning, good morning Mr. Lynch! Well, well, glad to see you–how’s the bad man from Bodie? Meet my partner, Miss Wilhelmina Campbell!”
He presented her gallantly and as Wilhelmina bowed she felt their hostile eyes upon her.
“Like to look at our mine?” rattled on Wunpost affably. “Well, here it is, and she’s a world-beater. Take a squint at that rock–you won’t need no glasses–how’s that, Mr. Eells, for the pure quill?”
58Eells looked at the specimen, then looked at it again, and slipped it into his pocket.
“Yes, rich,” he said in a deep bass voice, “very rich–it looks like a mine. But–er–did I understand you to say that Miss Campbell was your partner? Because really you know─”
“Yes, she’s my partner,” replied Wunpost. “We hold the controlling interest. Got a couple more partners that own a third.”
“Because really,” protested Eells, “under the terms of our contract─”
“Oh, to hell with your contract!” burst out Wunpost scornfully. “Do you think that will hold over here?”
“Why, undoubtedly!” exclaimed Eells. “I hope you didn’t think–but no matter, I claim half of this mine.”
“You won’t get it,” answered Wunpost. “This is over in California. Your contract was made for Nevada.”
“It was madeinNevada,” corrected Judson Eells promptly, “but it applied to all claims,wherever found! Would you like to see a copy of the contract?” He turned to the automobile, and like a jack-in-the-box a little lean man popped out.
“No!” roared Wunpost, and looked about wildly, at which Cole Campbell stepped up beside him.
“What’s the trouble?” he asked, and as Wunpost shouted into his ear Campbell shook his head and smiled dubiously.
“Let’s look at the contract,” he suggested, and59Wunpost, all unstrung, consented. Then he grabbed him back and yelled into his ear:
“That’sno good now–he’s used it once already!”
“How do you mean?” queried Campbell, still reaching for the contract; and the jack-in-the-box thrust it into his hands.
“Why, he used that same paper to claim the Wunpost–he can’t claim every mine I find!”
“Well, we’ll see,” returned Campbell, putting on his glasses, and Wunpost flew into a fury.
“Git out of here!” he yelled, making a kick at Pisen-face Lynch; “git out, or I’ll be the death of ye!”
But Pisen-face Lynch recoiled like a rattlesnake and stood set with a gun in each hand.
“Don’t you think it,” he rasped, and Wunpost turned away from him with a groan of mortal agony.
“What does it say?” he demanded of Campbell. “Can he claim this mine, too? But say, listen; I wasn’tworkingfor him! I was working for myself, and furnishing my own grub–and I’ve never been through here before! He can’t claim I found it when I was under his grubstake, because I’ve never been into this country!”
He stopped, all a-tremble, and looked on helplessly while Cole Campbell read on through the “fine print”; and, not being able to read the words, he watched the face of the deaf man like a criminal who hopes for a reprieve. But there was no reprieve for60Wunpost, for the paper he had signed made provision against every possible contingency; and the man who had drawn it stood there smiling triumphantly–the jack-in-the-box was none other than Lapham. Wunpost watched till he saw his last hope flicker out, then whirled on the gloating lawyer. Phillip F. Lapham was tall and thin, with the bloodless pallor of a lunger, but as Wunpost began to curse him a red spot mounted to each cheek-bone and he pointed his lanky forefinger like a weapon.
“Don’t you threaten me!” he cried out vindictively, “or I’ll have you put under bond. The fault is your own if you failed to read this contract, or failed to understand its intent. But there it stands, a paper of record and unbeatable in any court in the land. I challenge you to break it–every provision is reciprocal–it is sound both in law and equity! And under clause seven my client, Mr. Eells, is entitled to one-half of this claim!”
“But I only own one-third of it!” protested Wunpost desperately. “I located it for myself and Wilhelmina Campbell, and then we gave Dusty Rhodes a third.”
“That’s beside the point,” answered Lapham briefly. “If you were the original and sole discoverer, Mr. Eells is entitled to one-half, and any agreements which you have made with others will have to be modified accordingly.”
“What do you mean?” yelled a voice, and Dusty Rhodes, who had been listening, now jumped into the center of the arena. “I’ll have you to understand,”61he cried in a fury, “that I’m entitled to a full half in this claim. I was with this man Wunpost when he made the discovery, and according to mining law I’m entitled to one-half of it–I don’t givethatfor you and your contract!”
He snapped his fingers under the lawyer’s nose and Lapham drew back, startled.
“Then in that case,” stated Wunpost, “I don’t getanything–and I’m the man that discovered it! But I’ll tell you, my merry men, there’s another law yet, when a man is sure he’s right!”
He tapped his six-shooter and even Lynch blenched, for the fighting light had come into his eyes. “No,” went on Wunpost, “you can’t work that on me. I found this mine and I’m going to have half of it or shoot it out with the bunch of ye!”
“You can have my share,” interposed Wilhelmina tremulously, and he flinched as if struck by a whip.
“I don’t want it!” he snarled. “It’s these high-binders I’m after. You, Dusty, you don’t get anything now. If this big fat slob is going to claim half my mine, you canlawus–he’ll have to pay the bills. Now git, you old dastard, and if you horn in here again I’ll show you where you headout!” He waved him away, and Dusty Rhodes slunk off, for a guilty conscience makes cowards of us all; but Judson Eells stood solid as adamant, though his lawyer was whispering in his ear.
“Go and see him,” nodded Eells, and as Lapham followed Rhodes he turned to the excited Wunpost.
“Mr. Calhoun,” he began, “I see no reason to62withdraw from my position in regard to this claim. This contract is legal and was made in good faith, and moreover I can prove that I paid out two thousand dollars before you ever located a claim. But all that can be settled in court. If you have given Miss Campbell a third, her share is now a sixth, because only half of the mine was yours to give; and so on with the rest, though if Mr. Rhodes’ claim is valid we will allow him his original one-third. Now what would you say if I should allowyouone-third, of which you can give Miss Campbell what you wish, and I will keep the other, allowing Mr. Rhodes the last–each one of us to hold a third interest?”
“I would say─” burst out Wunpost, and then he stopped, for Wilhelmina was tugging at his arm. She spoke quickly into his ear, he flared up and then subsided, and at last he turned sulkily to Eells.
“All right,” he said, “I’ll take the third. I see you’ve got me cinched.”
In four days time Wunpost had seen his interest dwindle from full ownership to a mere sixth of the Willie Meena. First he had given Billy half, then they had each given Rhodes a sixth; and now Judson Eells had stepped in with his contract and trimmed their holdings by a half. In another day or so, if the ratio kept up, Wunpost’s sixth would be reduced to a twelfth, a twenty-fourth, a forty-eighth, a ninety-sixth–and he had discovered the mine himself! What philosophy or sophistry can reconcile a man to such buffets from the hand of Fate? Wunpost cursed and turned to raw whiskey. It was the infamy of it all; the humiliation, the disgrace, the insult of being trimmed by a lawyer–twice! Yes, twice in the same place, with the same contract, the same system; and now this same Flip Flappum was busy as a hunting dog trying to hire one of his partners to sell him out!
Wunpost towered above Old Whiskers, and so terrible was his presence that the saloon-keeper never hinted at pay. He poured out drink after drink of the vitriolic whiskey, which Whiskers made in the secrecy of his back-room; and as Wunpost drank64and shuddered the waspish Phillip F. Lapham set about his complete undoing. First he went to Dusty Rhodes, who still claimed a full half, and browbeat him until he fell back to a third; and then, when Dusty priced his third at one million, he turned to the disillusioned Billy. Her ideas were more moderate, as far as values were concerned, but her loyalty to Wunpost was still unshaken and she refused to even consider a sale. Back and forth went the lawyer like a shuttle in its socket, from Dusty Rhodes to Wilhelmina and then back once more to Rhodes; but Dusty would sign nothing, sell nothing, agree to nothing, and Billy was almost as bad. She placed a cash value of twenty thousand dollars on her interest in the Willie Meena Mine, but the sale was contingent upon the consent of John C. Calhoun, who had drowned his sorrows at last. So they waited until morning and Billy laid the matter before him when her father brought the drunken man to their tent.
Wunpost was more than drunk, he was drugged and robbed of reason by the poison which Old Whiskers had brewed; but even with this handicap his mind leapt straight to the point and he replied with an emphatic “No!”
“Twenty thousand!” he repeated, “twenty thousand devils–twenty thousand little demons from hell! What do you want to sell me out for–didn’t I give you your interest? Well, listen, kid–you ever been to school? Then how much is one-sixth and one-third–add ’em together! Makesthree-sixths, don’t it–well, ain’t that a half? I ain’t educated,65that’s all right; but I canthink, kid, can’t I? Flip Flappum he wants to get control. Give him a half, under my contract, and he can take possession–and then where doIgit off? I git off at the same place I got off over at Wunpost; he’s trying to freeze me out. So if you want to do me dirt, kid, when I’ve always been your friend, go to it and sell him your share. Take your paltry twenty thousand and let old Wunpost rustle–serves him right, the poor, ignorant fool!”
He swayed about and Billy drew away from him, but her answer to Lapham was final. She would not sell out, at any price, without the consent of Wunpost. Lapham nodded and darted off–he was a man who dealt with facts and not with the moonshine of sentiment–and this time he fairly flew at Dusty Rhodes. He took him off to one side, where no one could listen in, and at the end of half an hour Mr. Rhodes had signed a paper giving a quit-claim to his interest in the mine. Old Whiskers was summoned from his attendance on the bottles, the lawyer presented his case; and, whatever the arguments, they prevailed also with the saloon-keeper, who signed up and took his check. Presumably they had to do with threats of expensive litigation and appeals to the higher courts, with a learned exposition of the weakness of their case and the air-tight position of Judson Eells; the point is, they prevailed, and Eells took possession of the mine, placing Pisen-face Lynch in charge.
Old Whiskers folded his tent and returned to66Blackwater, where many of the stampeders had preceded him; and Dusty Rhodes, with a guilty grin, folded his check and started for the railroad. Cole Campbell and his daughter, when they heard the news and found themselves debarred from the property, packed up and took the trail home, and when John C. Calhoun came out of his coma he was left without a friend in the world. The rush had passed on, across the Sink to Blackwater and to the gulches in the mountains beyond; for the men from Nevada had not been slow to comprehend that the Willie Meena held no promise for them.
It was a single rich blow-out in a country otherwise barren; and the tales of the pocket miners, who held claims back of Blackwater, had led to a second stampede. The Willie Meena was a prophecy of what might be expected if a similar formation could be found, but it was no more than the throat of an extinct volcano, filled up with gold-bearing quartz. There was no fissure-vein, no great mother lode leading off through the country for miles; only a hogback of black quartz and then worlds and worlds of desert as barren as wash boulders could make it. So they rose and went on, like birds in full flight after they have settled for a moment on the plain, and when Wunpost rose up and rubbed his eyes his great camp had passed away like a dream.
Two days later he walked wearily across the desert from Blackwater, with a two gallon canteen under his arm, and at the entrance to Jail Canyon he paused and looked in doubtfully before he shambled67up to the house. He was broke, and he knew it, and added to that shame was the greater shame that comes from drink. Old Whiskers’ poisonous whiskey had sapped his self-respect, and yet he came on boldly. There was a fever in his eye like that of the gambler who has lost all, yet still watches the fall of the cards; and as Wilhelmina came out he winked at her mysteriously and beckoned her away from the house.
“I’ve got something good,” he told her confidentially; “can you get off to go down to Blackwater?”
“Why, I might,” she said. “Father’s working up the canyon. Is it something about the mine?”
“Yes, it is,” he answered. “Say, what d’ye think of Dusty? He sold us out for five thousand dollars! Five thousand–that’s all–and Old Whiskers took the same, giving Judson Eells full control. They cleaned us, Billy, but we’ll get our cut yet–do you know what they’re trying to do? Eells is going to organize a company and sell a few shares in order to finance the mine; and if we want to, kid, we can turn in our third interest and get the pro rata in stock. We might as well do it, because they’ve got the control and otherwise we won’t get anything. They’ve barred us off the property and we’ll never get a cent if it produces a million dollars. But look, here’s the idea–Judson Eells is badly bent on account of what he lost at Wunpost, and he’s crazy to organize a company and market the treasury stock. We’ll go in with him, see, and as soon as we get our stock we’ll peddle it for what we can get. That’ll68net us a few thousand and you can take your share and help the old man build his road.”
The stubborn look on Billy’s face suddenly gave place to one of doubt and then to one of swift decision.
“I’ll do it,” she said. “We don’t need to see Father–just tell them that I’ve agreed. And when the time comes, send an Indian up to notify me and I’ll ride down and sign the papers.”
“Good enough!” exclaimed Wunpost with a hint of his old smile. “I’ll come up and tell you myself. Have you heard the news from below? Well, every house in Blackwater is plumb full of boomers–and them pocket-miners are all selling out. The whole country’s staked, clean back to the peaks, and old Eells says he’s going to start a bank. There’s three new saloons, a couple more restaurants, and she sure looks like a good live camp–and me, the man that started it and made the whole country, I can’t even bum a drink!”
“I’m glad of it,” returned Billy, and regarded him so intently that he hastened to change the subject.
“But you wait!” he thundered. “I’ll show ’em who’s who! I ain’t down, by no manner of means. I’ve got a mine or two hid out that would make ’em fairly scream if I’d show ’em a piece of the rock. All I need is a little capital, just a few thousand dollars to get me a good outfit of mules, and I’ll come back into Blackwater with a pack-load of ore that’ll make ’emallsit up and take notice.”
He swung his fist into his hand with oratorical69fervor and Mrs. Campbell appeared suddenly at the door. Her first favorable impression of the gallant young Southerner had been changed by the course of events and she was now morally certain that the envious Dusty Rhodes had come nearer the unvarnished truth. To be sure he had apologized, but Wunpost himself had said that it was only to gain a share in the mine–and how lamentably had Wunpost failed, after all his windy boasts, when it came to a conflict with Judson Eells. He had weakened like a schoolboy, all his arguments had been puerile; and even her husband, who was far from censorious, had stated that the whole affair was badly handled. And now here he was, after a secret conference with her daughter, suddenly bursting into vehement protestations and hinting at still other hidden mines. Well, his mines might be as rich as he declared them to be, but Mrs. Campbell herself was dubious.
“Wilhelmina,” she called, “don’t stand out in the sun! Why don’t you invite Mr. Calhoun to the house?”
The hint was sufficient, Mr. Calhoun excused himself hastily and went striding away down the canyon; and Wilhelmina, after a perfunctory return to the house, slipped out and ran up to her lookout. Not a word that he had said about the rush to Blackwater was in any way startling to her; she had seen every dust-cloud, marked each automobile as it rushed past, and even noted the stampede from the west. For the natural way to Blackwater was not70across Death Valley from the distant Nevada camps, but from the railroad which lay only forty miles to the west and was reached by an automobile stage. The road came down through Sheep-herder Canyon, on the other side of the Sink, and every day as she looked across its vastness she saw the long trailers of dust. She knew that the autos were rushing in with men and the slow freighters were hauling in supplies–all the real news for her was the number of saloons and restaurants, and that Eells was starting a bank.
A bank! And in Blackwater! The only bank that Blackwater had ever had or needed was the safe in Old Whiskers’ saloon; and now this rich schemer, this iron-handed robber, was going to start a bank! Billy lay inside the portal of her gate of dreams and watched Wunpost as he plodded across the plain, and she resolved to join with him and do her level best to bring Eells’ plans to naught. If he was counting on the sale of his treasury stock to fill up the vaults of his bank he would find others in the market with stock in both hands, peddling it out to the highest bidder. And even if the mine was worth into the millions, she, for one, would sell every share. It was best, after all, since Eells owned the control, to sell out for what they could get; and if this was merely a deep-laid scheme to buy in their stock for almost nothing they would at least have a little ready cash.
The Campbells were poor; her father even lacked the money to buy powder to blast out his road, and71so he struggled on, grading up the easy places and leaving Corkscrew Gorge untouched. That would call for heavy blasting and crews of hardy men to climb up and shoot down the walls, and even after that the jagged rock-bed must be covered and leveled to the semblance of a road. Now nothing but a trail led up through the dark passageway, where grinding boulders had polished the walls like glass; and until that gateway was opened Cole Campbell’s road was useless; it might as well be all trail. But with five thousand dollars, or even less–with whatever she received from her stock–the gateway could be conquered, her father’s dream would come true and all their life would be changed.
There would be a road, right past their house, where great trucks would lumber forth loaded down with ore from their mine, and return ladened with machinery from the railroad. There would be miners going by and stopping for a drink, and someone to talk to every day, and the loneliness which oppressed her like a physical pain would give place to gaiety and peace. Her father would be happy and stop working so hard, and her mother would not have to worry–all if she, Wilhelmina, could just sell her stock and salvage a pittance from the wreck.
She knew now what Wunpost had meant when he had described the outside world and the men they would meet at the rush, yet for all his hard-won knowledge he had gone down once more before Judson Eells and his gang. But he had spoken true when he said they would resort to murder to gain possession72of their mine, and though he had yielded at last to the lure of strong drink, in her heart she could not blame him too much. It was not by wrongdoing that he had wrecked their high hopes, but by signing a contract long years before without reading what he called the fine print. He was just a boy, after all, in spite of his boasting and his vaunted knowledge of the world; and now in his trouble he had come back to her, to the one person he knew he could trust. She gazed a long time at the dwindling form till it was lost in the immensity of the plain; and then she gazed on, for dreams were all she had to comfort her lonely heart
Ever since David went forth and slew Goliath with his sling, youth has set its puny lance to strike down giants; and history, making much of the hotspurs who won, draws a veil over the striplings who were slain. And yet all who know the stern conditions of life must recognize that youth is a handicap, and if David had but donned the heavy armor of King Saul he too would have gone to his death. But instead he stepped forth untrammeled by its weight, with nothing but a stone and a sling, and because the scoffing giant refused to raise his shield he was struck down by the pebble of a child. But giant Judson Eells was in a baby-killing mood when he invited Wunpost and Wilhelmina to his den; and when they emerged, after signing articles of incorporation, he licked his chops and smiled.
It developed at the meeting that the sole function of a stockholder is to vote for the Directors of the Company; and, having elected Eells and Lapham and John C. Calhoun Directors, the stockholders’ meeting adjourned. Reconvening immediately as a, Board of Directors, Judson Eells was elected President, John C. Calhoun, Vice-President and Phillip F.74Lapham Secretary-treasurer–after which an assessment of ten cents a share was levied upon all the stock. Exit John C. Calhoun and Wilhelmina Campbell, stripped of their stock and all faith in mankind. For even if by some miracle they should raise the necessary sum Judson Eells and Phillip Lapham would immediately vote a second assessment, and so on,ad finitum. Holding a majority of the stock, Eells could control the Board of Directors, and through it the policies of the company; and any assessments which he himself might pay would but be transferred from one pocket to the other. It was as neat a job of baby-killing as Eells had ever accomplished, and he slew them both with a smile.
They had conspired in their innocence to gain stock in the company and to hawk it about the streets; but neither had thought to suggest the customary Article: “The stock of said company shall be non-assessable.” The Articles of Incorporation had been drawn up by Phillip F. Lapham; and yet, after all his hard experiences, Wunpost was so awed by the legal procedure that he forgot all about the fine print. Not that it made any difference, they would have trimmed him anyway, but it was three times in the very same place! He cursed himself out loud for an ignorant baboon and left Wilhelmina in tears.
She had come down with her mother, her father being busy, and they had planned to take in the town; but after this final misfortune Wilhelmina lost all interest in the busy marts of trade. What to her75were clothes and shoes when she had no money to buy them–and when overdressed women, none too chaste in their demeanor, stared after her in boorish amusement? Blackwater had become a great city, but it was not for her–the empty honor of having the Willie Meena named after her was all she had won from her mine. John C. Calhoun had been right when he warned her, long before, that the mining game was more like a dog fight than it was like a Sunday school picnic; and yet–well, some people made money at it. Perhaps they were better at reading the fine print, and not so precipitate about signing Articles of Incorporation, but as far as she was concerned Wilhelmina made a vow never to trust a lawyer again.
She returned to the ranch, where the neglected garden soon showed signs of her changing mood; but after the weeds had been chopped out and routed she slipped back to her lookout on the hill. It was easier to tear the weeds from a tangled garden than old memories from her lonely heart; and she took up, against her will, the old watch for Wunpost, who had departed from Blackwater in a fury. He had stood on the corner and, oblivious of her presence, had poured out the vials of his wrath; he had cursed Eells for a swindler, and Lapham for his dog and Lynch for his yellow hound. He had challenged them all, either individually or collectively, to come forth and meet him in battle; and then he had offered to fight any man in Blackwater who would say a good word for any of them. But Blackwater76looked on in cynical amusement, for Eells was the making of the town; and when he had given off the worst of his venom Wunpost had tied up his roll and departed.
He had left as he had come, a single-blanket tourist, packing his worldly possessions on his back; and when last seen by Wilhelmina he was headed east, up the wash that came down from the Panamints. Where he was going, when he would return, if he ever would return, all were mysteries to the girl who waited on; and if she watched for him it was because there was no one else whose coming would stir her heart. Far up the canyon and over the divide there lived Hungry Bill and his family, but Hungry was an Indian and when he dropped in it was always to get something to eat. He had two sons and two daughters, whom he kept enslaved, forbidding them to even think of marriage; and all his thoughts were of money and things to eat, for Hungry Bill was an Indian miser.
He came through often now with his burros packed with fruit from the abandoned white-man’s ranch that he had occupied; and even his wild-eyed daughters had more variety than Billy, for they accompanied him to Blackwater and Willie Meena. There they sold their grapes and peaches at exorbitant prices and came back with coffee and flour, but neither would say a word for fear of their old father, who watched them with intolerant eyes. They were evil, snaky eyes, for it was said that in his day he had waylaid many a venturesome prospector,77and while they gleamed ingratiatingly when he was presented with food, at no time did they show good will. He was still a renegade at heart, shunned and avoided by his own kinsmen, the Shoshones who camped around Wild Rose; but it was from him, from this old tyrant that she despised so cordially, that Wilhelmina received her first news of Wunpost.
Hungry Bill came up grinning, on his way down from his ranch, and fixed her with his glittering black eyes.
“You savvy Wunpo?” he asked, “hi-ko man–busca gol’? Him sendum piece of lock!”
He produced a piece of rock from a knot in his shirt-tail and handed it over to her slowly. It was a small chunk of polished quartz, half green, half turquoise blue; and in the center, like a jewel, a crystal of yellow gold gleamed out from its matrix of blue. Wilhelmina gazed at it blankly, then flushed and turned away as she felt Hungry Bill’s eyes upon her. He was a disreputable old wretch, who imputed to others the base motives which governed his own acts; and when she read his black heart Wilhelmina straightened up and gave him back the stone.
“No, you keepum!” protested Hungry. “Hi-ko ketchum plenty mo’.”
But Wilhelmina shook her head.
“No!” she said, “you give that to my mother. Are those your girls down there? Well, why don’t you let them come up to the house? You no good–I don’t like bad Indians!”
78She turned away from him, still frowning angrily, and strode on down to the creek; but the daughters of Hungry Bill, in their groveling way, seemed to share the low ideals of their father. They were tall and sturdy girls, clad in breezy calico dresses and with their hair down over their eyes; and as they gazed out from beneath their bangs a guilty smile contorted their lips, a smile that made Wilhelmina writhe.
“What’s the matter with you?” she snapped, and as the scared look came back she turned on her heel and left them. What could one expect, of course, from Hungry Bill’s daughters after they had been guarded like the slave-girls in a harem; but the joy of hearing from Wunpost was quite lost in the fierce anger which the conduct of his messengers evoked. He was up there, somewhere, and he had made another strike–the most beautiful blue quartz in the world–but these renegade Shoshones with their understanding smiles had quite killed the pleasure of it for her. She returned to the house where Hungry Bill, in the kitchen, was wolfing down a great pan of beans; but the sight of the old glutton with his mouth down to the plate quite sickened her and drove her away. Wunpost was up in the hills, and he had made a strike, but with that she must remain content until he either came down himself or chose a more highminded messenger.
Hungry Bill went on to Blackwater and came back with a load of supplies, which he claimed he was taking to “Wunpo”; and, after he had passed up the79canyon, Wilhelmina strolled along behind him. At the mouth of Corkscrew Gorge there was a great pool of water, overshadowed by a rank growth of willows through whose tops the wild grapevines ran riot. Here it had been her custom, during the heat of the day, to paddle along the shallows or sit and enjoy the cool air. There was always a breeze at the mouth of Corkscrew Gorge, and when it drew down, as it did on this day, it carried the odors of dank caverns. In the dark and gloomy depths of this gash through the hills the rocks were always damp and cold; and beneath the great waterfalls, where the cloudbursts had scooped out pot-holes, there was a delicious mist and spray. She dawdled by the willows, then splashed on up the slippery trail until, above the last echoing waterfall, she stepped out into the world beyond.
The great canyon spread out again, once she had passed the waterworn Gorge, and peak after peak rose up to right and left where yawning side canyons led in. But all were set on edge and reared up to dizzying heights; and along their scarred flanks there lay huge slides of shaley rock, ready to slip at the touch of a hand. Vivid stripes of red and green, alternating with layers of blue and white, painted the sides of the striated ridges; and odd seams here and there showed dull yellows and chocolate browns like the edge of a crumbled layer-cake. Up the canyon the walls shut in again, and then they opened out, and so on for nine miles until Old Panamint was reached and the open valley sloped up to the summit.
80Many a time in the old days when they had lived in Panamint had Wilhelmina scaled those far heights; the huge white wall of granite dotted with ball-like piñons and junipers, which fenced them from Death Valley beyond. It opened up like a gulf, once the summit was reached, and below the jagged precipices stretched long ridges and fan-like washes which lost themselves at last in the Sink. For a hundred miles to the north and the south it lay, a writhing ribbon of white, pinching down to narrow strips, then broadening out in gleaming marshes; and on both sides the mountains rose up black and forbidding, a bulwark against the sky. Wilhelmina had never entered it, she had been content to look down; and then she crept back to beautiful sheltered Panamint where father had his mine.
It was up on the ridge, where the white granite of the summit came into contact with the burnt limestone and schist; and, of all the rich mines, the Homestake was the best, until the cloudburst came along and spoiled all of them. Wilhelmina still remembered how the great flood had passed the town, moving boulders as if they were pebbles; but not until it reached the place where she stood had it done irretrievable damage. The roadbed was washed out, but the streambed remained, and the banks from which to fill in more dirt; but when the flood struck the Gorge it backed up into a lake, for the narrow defile was choked. Trees and rocks and rumbling boulders had piled up against its entrance, holding the waters back like a dam; and when they broke81through they sluiced everything before them, gouging the canyon down to the bedrock. Now twelve years had passed by and only a hazardous trail threaded the Gorge which had once been a highway.
Wilhelmina gazed up the valley and sighed again, for since that terrific cloudburst she had been stranded in Jail Canyon like a piece of driftwood tossed up by the flood. Nothing happened to her, any more than to the piñon logs which the waters had wedged high above the stream, and as she returned home down the Gorge she almost wished for another flood, to float them and herself away. No one came by there any more, the trail was so poor, and yet her father still clung to the mine; but a flood would either fill up the Gorge with débris or make even him give up hope. She sank down by the cool pool and put her feet in the water, dabbling them about like a wilful child; but at a shout from below she rose up a grown woman, for she knew it was Dusty Rhodes.
He came on up the creekbed with his burros on the trot, hurling clubs at the laggards as he ran; and when they stopped short at the sight of Wilhelmina he almost rushed them over her. But a burro is a creature of lively imagination, to whom the unknown is always terrible; and at a fresh outburst from Dusty the whole outfit took to the brush, leaving him face to face with his erstwhile partner.
“Oh, hello, hello!” he called out gruffly. “Say, did Hungry Bill go through here? He was jest down to Blackwater, buying some grub at the store,82and he paid for it with rock that washalf gold! So git out of the road, my little girl–I’m going up to prospect them hills!”
“Don’t you call me your little girl!” called back Billy angrily. “And Hungry Bill hasn’t got any mine!”
“Oh, he ain’t, hey?” mocked Dusty, leaving his burros to browse while he strode triumphantly up to her. “Then jest look atthat, my–my fine young lady! I got it from the store-keeper myself!”
He handed her a piece of green and blue quartz, but she only glanced at it languidly. The memory of his perfidy on a previous occasion made her long to puncture his pride, and she passed the gold ore back to him.
“I’ve seen that before,” she said with a sniff, “so you can stop driving those burros so hard. It came from Wunpost’s mine.”
“Wunpost!” yelled Dusty Rhodes, his eyes getting big; and then he spat out an oath. “Who told ye?” he demanded, sticking his face into hers, and she stepped away disdainfully.
“Hungry Bill,” she said, and watched him writhe as the bitter truth went home. “You think you’re so smart,” she taunted at last, “why don’t you go out and find one for yourself? I suppose you want to rush in and claim a half interest in his strike and then sell out to old Eells. I hope he kills you, if you try to do it–Iwould, if I were him. What’d you do with that five thousand dollars?”
83“Eh–eh–that’s none of your business,” bleated Dusty Rhodes, whose trip to Los Angeles had proved disastrous. “And if Wunpost gave Hungry that sack of ore he stole it from some other feller’s mine. I knowed all along he’d locate that Black P’int if I ever let him stop–I’ve had my eye on it for years–and that’s why I hurried by. I discovered it myself, only I never told nobody–he must have heard me talking in my sleep!”
“Yes, or when you were drunk!” suggested Wilhelmina maliciously. “I hear you got robbed in Los Angeles. And anyhow I’m glad, because you stole that five thousand dollars, and no good ever came from stolen property.”
“Oh, it didn’t, hey?” sneered Dusty, who was recovering his poise, “well, I’ll bet yethisrock was stolen! And if that’s the case, where does your young man git off, that you think the world and all of? But you’ve got to show me that he eversawthis rock–I believe old Hungry was lying to you!”
“Well, don’t let me keep you!” cried Billy, bowing mockingly. “Go on over and ask him yourself–but I’ll bet you don’tdareto meet Wunpost!”
“How come Hungry to tell you?” burst out Dusty Rhodes at last, and Wilhelmina smiled mysteriously.
“That’s none of your business, my busy little man,” she mimicked in patronizing tones, “but I’ve got a piece of that rock right up at the house. You go back there and mother will show it to you.”
“I’m going on!” answered Dusty with instant84decision; “can’t stop to make no visit today. They’s a big rush coming–every burro-man in Blackwater–and some of them are legging it afoot. But that thieving son of a goat,henever found no mine! I know it–it can’t be possible!”
The rush of burro-men to Hungry Bill’s ranch followed close in Dusty Rhodes’ wake, and some there were who came on foot; but they soon came stringing back, for it was a fine, large country and Hungry Bill was about as communicative as a rattlesnake. All he knew, or cared to know, was the price of corn and fruit, which he sold at Blackwater prices; and the search for Wunpost had only served to show to what lengths a man will go for revenge. In some mysterious way Wunpost had acquired a horse and mule, both sharp-shod for climbing over rocks, and he had dallied at Hungry Bill’s until the first of the stampeders had come in sight on the Panamint trail. Then he had set out up the ridge, riding the horse and packing the mule, and even an Indian trailer had given out and quit without ever bringing them in sight of him again. He had led them such a chase that the hardiest came back satisfied, and they agreed that he could keep his old mine.
The excitement died away or was diverted to other channels, for Blackwater was having a boom; and, just as Wilhelmina had given up hope of seeing86him, John C. Calhoun came riding down the ridge. Not down the canyon, where the trail made riding easy, but down the steep ridge trail, where a band of mountain sheep was accustomed to come for water. Wilhelmina was in her tunnel, looking down with envious eyes at the traffic in the valley below; and he came upon her suddenly, so suddenly it made her jump, for no one ever rode up there.
“Hello!” he hailed, spurring his horse up to the portal and letting out his rope as he entered. “Kinder hot, out there in the sun. Well, how’s tricks?” he inquired, sitting down in the shade and wiping the streaming sweat from his eyes. “Hungry Bill says you s-spurned my gold!”
“What did you tell that old Indian?” burst out Wilhelmina wrathfully, and Wunpost looked up in surprise.
“Why, nothing,” he said, “only to get me some grub and give you that piece of polished rock. How was that for the real old high grade? From my new mine, up in the high country. What’s the matter–did Hungry get gay?”
“Well–not that,” hesitated Wilhelmina, “but he looked at me so funny that I told him to give it to Mother. What was it you told him about me?”
“Not a thing,” protested Wunpost, “just to give you the rock. Oh, I know!” He laughed and slapped his leg. “He’s scared some prospector will steal one of them gals, and I told him not to worry about me. Guess that gave him a tip, because he looked wise as a prairie dog when I told him to give87that specimen to you.” He paused and knocked the dust out of his battered old hat, then glanced up from under his eyebrows.
“Ain’t mad, are you?” he asked, “because if you are I’m on my way─”
“Oh, no!” she answered quickly. “Where have you been all the time? Dusty Rhodes came through here, looking for you.”
“Yes, they all came,” he grinned, “but I showed ’em some sheep-trails before they got tired of chasing me. I knew for a certainty that those mugs would follow Hungry–they did the same thing over in Nevada. I sent in an Indian to buy me a little grub and they trailed me clean across Death Valley. Guess that ore must have looked pretty good.”
“Where’d you get it?” she asked, and he rolled his eyes roguishly while a crafty smile lit up his face.
“That’s a question,” he said. “If I’d tell you, you’d have the answer. But I’m not going to show it tonobody!”
“Well, you don’t need to think thatIcare!” she spoke up resentfully, “nobody asked you to show them your gold. And after what happened with the Willie Meena I wouldn’t take your old mine for a gift.”
“You won’t have to,” he replied. “I’ve quit taking in pardners–it’s a lone hand for me, after this. I’m sure slow in the head, but I reckon I’ve learned my lesson–never go up against the other man’s game. Old Eells is a lawyer and I tried to88beat him at law. We’ve switched the deal now and he can playmygame a while–hide-and-seek, up in them high peaks.”
He waved his hand in the direction of the Panamints and winked at her exultantly.
“Look atthat!” he said, and drew a rock from his shirt pocket which was caked and studded with gold. It was more like a chunk of gold with a little quartz attached to it, and as she exclaimed he leaned back and gloated. “I’ve got worlds of it!” he declared. “Let ’em get out and rustle for it–that’s the way I made my start. By the time they’ve rode as far as I have they’ll know she’s a mountain sheep country. I located two mines right smack beside the trail and these jaspers came along and stole them both. All right! Fine! Fine! Let ’em look for the old Sockdolager where I got this gold, and the first man that finds it can have it! I’m a sport–I haven’t even staked it!”
“And canIhave it?” asked Billy, her eyes beginning to glow, “because, oh, we need money so bad!”
“What for, kid?” inquired Wunpost with a fatherly smile. “Ain’t you got a good home, and everything?”
“Yes, but the road–Father’s road. If I just had the money we’d start right in on it tomorrow.”
“Hoo! I’ll build you the road!” declared Wunpost munificently. “And it won’t cost either one of us a cent. Don’t believe it, eh? You think this is bunk? Then I’ll tell you, kid, what I’ll do. I’ll89make you a bet we’ll have a wagon-road up that canyon before three months are up. And all by head-work, mind ye–not a dollar of our own money–might even get old Eells to build it. Yes, I’m serious; I’ve got a new system–been thinking it out, up in the hills–and just to show you how brainy I am I’ll make this demonstration for nothing. You don’t need to bet me anything, just acknowledge that I’m the king when it comes to the real inside work; and before I get through I’ll have Judson Eells belly up and gasping for air like a fish. I’m going to trim him, the big fat slob; I’m going to give him a lesson that’ll learn him to lay off of me for life; I’m going to make him so scared he’ll step down into the gutter when he meets me coming down the sidewalk. Well, laugh, doggone it, but you watch my dust–I’m going to hang his hide on the fence!”
“That’s what you told me before,” she reminded him mischievously, “but somehow it didn’t work out.”
“It’ll work out this time,” he retorted grimly. “A man has got to learn. I’m just a kid, I know that, and I’m not much on book learning, but don’t you never say I can’tthink! Maybe I can’t beat them crooks when I play their own game, but this timeI deal the hand! Do you git me? We’ve switched the deal! And if I don’t ring in a cold deck and deal from the bottom it won’t be because it’swrong. I’m out to scalp ’em, see, and just to convince you we’ll begin by building that road. Your old man is90wrong, he don’t need no road and it won’t do him any good when he gets it; but just to make you happy and show you how much I think of you, I’ll do it–only you’ve got to stand pat! No Sunday school stuff, see? We’re going to fight this out with hay hooks, and when I come back with his hair don’t blame me if old Eells makes a roar. I’m going to stick him, see; and I’m not going to stick him once–I’m going to stick him three times, till he squeals like a pig, because that’s what he did to me! He cleaned me once on the Wunpost, and twice on the Willie Meena, but before I get through with him he’ll knock a corner off the mountain every time he sees my dust. He’ll begone, you understand–it’ll be moving day for him–but I’ll chase him to the hottest stope in hell. I’m going to bust him, savvy, just to learn these other dastards not to start any rough stuff with me. And now the road, the road! We’ll just get him to build it–I’ve got it all framed up!”
He made a bluff to kiss her, then ran out and mounted his horse and went rollicking off towards Blackwater. Wilhelmina brushed her cheek and gazed angrily after him, then smiled and turned away with a sigh.