Wunpost Part 13

He paused, and the rubbernecks betook themselves away, but Pisen-face Lynch did not shoot. He stood in the street, shifting his feet uneasily, and Wunpost opened the vials of scorn.

"You're bad, ain't you?" he taunted. "You're so bad your face hurts you, but you can't run no blazer on me. And just because you chased me clean down into Death Valley you don't need to think I'm afraid. I was just showing you up as a desert-man, et cetery, but if any man had told me you'd drink that poisoned water I'd've said he was crazy with the heat.

You're a lovely looking specimen of humanity! What's the matter--didn't you like them Epsom salts?"

"There was a.r.s.enic in that water!" charged Pisen-face fiercely. "I had it a.n.a.lyzed--you were trying to kill me!"

"Why, sure there was a.r.s.enic," returned Wunpost mockingly, "don't you know that rank, fishy smell? But don't blame me--it was G.o.d Almighty that threw the mixture together. And didn't I leave you a drink in that empty can? Well, where is your proper grat.i.tude?"

He ogled him sarcastically and Lynch took a step forward, only to halt as Wunpost stepped to meet him.

"That's all right!" threatened Lynch, his voice tremulous with rage and weakness. "You wait till I git back my strength. I'll fix you for this, you dirty, poisoning coward--you led me to that spring on purpose!"

"Yes, and you followed, you sucker!" returned Wunpost insultingly; "even your Injun had better sense than that. What did you expect me to do--leave you a canteen of good water so you could trail me up and pot me? No, you can consider yourself lucky I didn't shoot you like a dog for following me off the trail. I gave you the road--what did you want to follow _me_ for? By grab, it looked danged bad!"

"I'll go where I please!" declared Lynch defiantly. "You're hiding a mine that belongs to Mr. Eells and my instructions were to follow you and find it."

"Well, if you'd followed your instructions," returned Wunpost easily, "you sure would have found a mine. Do you see these two bags? Plum full of ore that I dug since I gave you the shake. Go back and report that to your boss."

"You're a liar!" snarled Lynch, but his eyes were on the ore-sacks and now they were gleaming with envy. And other eyes also were suddenly focussed on the gold, at which Wunpost surveyed the crowd intolerantly.

"You're a prize bunch of prospectors," he announced as from the housetops. "Why don't you get out in the hills and rustle? That's the way I got my start. But you Blackwater stiffs want to hang around town and let somebody else do the work. All you want is a chance to stake an extension on some big strike, so you can sell it to some promoter from Los!"

He grunted contemptuously and picked up the two big sacks while the citizens of Blackwater sneered back at him.

"Aw, bull!" scoffed one, "you ain't got no gold! And if you have, by grab, you stole it. What about the Stinging Lizard?"

"Well, _what_ about it?" retorted Wunpost, giving his bags to the Express agent, "----put down the value on that at seven thousand dollars." This last was aside to the inquiring Express agent, but the crowd heard it and burst out hooting.

"Seven thousands _cents_!" yelled a voice; "you never _saw_ seven thousand dollars! You're a bull-shover and your mine was salted!"

"Sure it was salted!" agreed Wunpost, laughing exultantly, "but you Blackwater stiffs will bite at anything. Did _I_ ever claim it was a mine? I'm a bull-shover, am I? Well, when did I ever come here and try to sell somebody a mine? No; I came into town with some Sockdolager ore, and you dastards all tried to get me drunk; and I finally made a deal with the barkeep at The Mint to show him the place for a thousand dollar bill. Well, didn't I show him the place--and didn't he come back more than satisfied with his pockets bursting out with the gold? _He_ never had no kick--I met him in Los Angeles and he told me he had sold the rock for thirteen hundred dollars to a jeweler. But say, my friends, don't you think I knew where he would go to get that thousand dollar bill? Do you think I was so drunk I expected a barkeeper to have thousand dollar bills in his pocket? No; I knowed who he would go to, and Eells gave him the bill and a pocket full of Boston beans; but he lost them on the road, so I brought him down Jail Canyon and old-scout Lynch here, he followed my tracks!

"Wasn't that wonderful, now? He followed our tracks back and he found the Stinging Lizard Mine--and then, of course, he jumped it! That's his job, when he ain't licking old Judson Eells' boots or framing up some crooked deal with Flappum; and then he went back and told Eells. And then Eells--you know him--being as he'd stole the mine from me, like all crooks he thought it was valuable. Was it up to me then to go to Mr.

Eells and tell him that the mine was salted? Would _you_ have done it--would _anybody_? Well, he thought he had me cinched, and I sold out for twenty thousand dollars. And now, my friend, you said a moment ago that I'd never _seen_ seven thousand dollars. All right, I say _you_ never did! But just, by grab, to show you who's four-flushing I'll put you out of your misery--I'll _show_ you seven thousand, savvy?"

He stuck out his head and gazed insolently into the man's face and then drew out his wad of bills. They were badly sweated, but the numbers were there--he peeled off seven bills and waved them airily, then laughed and shoved them into his overalls.

"Tuh h.e.l.l with you!" he burst out defiantly, consigning all Blackwater to perdition with one grand, oratorical flourish. "You think you're so smart," he went on tauntingly, "now come and trail me to my mine. If you find it you can have it--it ain't even staked--but they ain't one of you dares to follow me. I ain't afraid of Eells and his hired yaller dog, and I ain't afraid of _you_! I'll take you _all_ on--old Eells and all the rest of you--and I ain't afraid to show you the ore!"

He strode into the Express office and grabbed up a sack, which he cut open with a slash of his knife; and then he reached in and took out a great chunk that bulged and gleamed with gold.

"Am I four-flushing?" he inquired, and when no one answered he grunted and tied up the hole. There was a silence, and the crowd began to filter away--all but Lynch, who stood staring like an Indian. Then he too turned away, his haggard eyes blinking fast, like a woman on the verge of bitter tears.

CHAPTER XVI

DIVINE PROVIDENCE

The thundercaps were gleaming like silver in the heat when Wunpost rode back to Jail Canyon; but he came on almost merrily, a sopping bath-towel about his neck and his shirt pulled out, like a Chinaman's. These were the last days of September when the clouds which had gathered for months at last were giving down their rain; and the air, now it was humid, seemed to open every pore and make the sweat run in rivulets. Wunpost perspired, but he was happy, and as he neared the silent house he whistled shrilly for his dog. Good Luck came out for a moment, looked down at him reproachfully, and crawled back under the house, Yes, it was hot in the canyon, for the ridge cut off the wind and the rimrock reflected yet more heat, but Wunpost was happy through it all. He had told Blackwater where it could go.

Not Eells and Lynch alone, but the citizens at large, collectively and as individuals; and he had planted the seeds of envy and rage to rankle in their hairy b.r.e.a.s.t.s. He had shown them his gold, to make them yearn to find it, and his money to make them envy him his wealth; and then he had left them to stew in their own juice, for Blackwater was as hot as Jail Canyon. He was riding a horse now, and, in addition to Old Walker, he had a third mule, heavily packed; and he was headed for the hills to hide still more food and water against the chase that was sure to come.

Sooner or later they would follow on his trail, those petty, hateful souls who now sat in the barrooms and gasped like fish for breath; but they were waiting, forsooth, for the weather to cool down and the cloudbursts to finish their destruction. And that was the very reason why they would never find his mine--they were afraid to take his chances.

Mrs. Campbell and Wilhelmina were out on the back porch, which had been sprinkled until it was almost cool; and when Wunpost had unpacked and put his mules in the corral he came up the hill and joined them.

Wilhelmina had returned to her proper sphere, being clothed in the filmiest of gowns; and poor Mrs. Campbell, who was nearly prostrated by the heat, allowed her to entertain the company. They sat in the dense shade of the umbrella trees and creepers, within easy reach of a dripping olla; and after taking a huge drink, which started the sweat again, Wunpost sank down on the cool dirt floor.

"It ain't so hot here!" he began encouragingly; "you ought to be down in Blackwater. Say, the wind off that Sink would make your hair curl. I scared a lizard out of the shade and he hadn't run ten feet till he disappeared in a puff of smoke. His pardner turned over and started to lick his toes----"

"Yes, it does look like rain," observed Billy with a twinkle. "How long since _you_ started to herd lizards?"

"Who--me?" inquired Wunpost. "W'y, I'm telling you the truth. But say, it does look like rain. If they'd only spread it out, instead of dumping it all in one place, it'd suit me better, personally. There was a cloudburst last week hit into the canyon above me and I just made my getaway in time, and where that water landed you'd think a hydraulic sluice had been washing down the hill for a year. It all struck in one place and gouged clean down to bedrock, and when she came by me there was so much brush pushed ahead that it looked like a big, moving dam.

Where's your father--up getting out ore?"

"Yes, he's up at the mine," spoke up Mrs. Campbell, "although I've begged him not to work so hard. The heat is almost killing him, but he's so thankful to have his road done that he won't delay a minute. He's used up all his sacks, but he's still sorting the ore so that he can load it right onto the trucks."

"Yes, that's good," commented Wunpost, glancing furtively at Billy, "I hope he makes a million. He deserves it--he's sure worked hard."

"Yes, he has," responded Mrs. Campbell, "and I've always had faith in him, but others have tried to discourage him. I believe I've heard you say that his work was all wasted, but now everybody is envying him his success. It all goes to show that the Lord cares for his own, and that the righteous are not forgotten; because Cole has always said he would rather be poor and honest than to own the greatest fortune in the land.

And now it seems as if the hand of Providence has just reached down and given us our road--the Lord provides for his own."

"Looks that way," agreed Wunpost; "sure treating _me_ fine, too.

There was a time, back there, when He seemed to have a copper on every bet I played, but now luck is coming my way. Of course I don't deserve it--and for that matter, I don't ask no odds--but this last mine I found is a Sockdolager right, and Eells or none of 'em can't find it. I took down one mule-load that was worth ten thousand dollars, and when I was shipping it you should have seen them Blackwater b.u.ms looking on with tears in their eyes. That's all right about the Lord providing for his own, but I tell you hard work has got something to do with it, whether you believe in religion or not. I'm a rustler, I'll say that, and I work for what I get, just as hard as your husband or anyone----"

"Ah, but Mister Calhoun," broke in Mrs. Campbell reproachfully, "we've heard evil stories of your dealings with Eells. Not that we like him, for we don't; but, so we are informed, the mine that you sold him was salted."

"Why, mother!" exclaimed Billy, but the fat was in the fire, for Wunpost had nodded shamelessly.

"Yes," he said, "the mine was salted, but don't let that keep you awake nights. I didn't _sell_ him the mine--he took it away from me and gave me twenty thousand for a quit-claim. And the twenty thousand dollars was nothing to what I lost when he robbed me and Billy of our mine."

"Why--why, Mr. Calhoun!" cried Mrs. Campbell in a shocked voice, "did you salt that mine on purpose?"

"You'd have thought so," he returned, "if you'd seen me packing the ore.

It took me nigh onto two weeks."

Mrs. Campbell paused and gasped, but Wunpost met her gaze with a cold, unblinking stare. Her nice Scotch scruples were not for such as he, and if she crowded him too far he had an answer to her reproaches which would effectually reduce her to silence. But Billy knew that answer, and the reason for the gleam which played like heat-lightning in his eyes, and she hastened to stave off disaster.

"Oh, mother!" she protested, "now please don't talk seriously to him or he'll confess to almost anything. He told me a lot of stuff and I was dreadfully worried about it, but I found out he only did it to tease me.

And besides, you know yourself that Mr. Eells did take advantage of us and trick us out of our mine--and if it hadn't been for that we could have built the road ourselves without being beholden to anybody."

"But Billy, child!" she chided, "just think what you're saying. Is it any excuse that others are dishonest? Well, I must say I'm surprised!"

"Oh, you're surprised, are you?" spoke up Wunpost, rising ponderously to his feet. "Well, if you don't like my style, just say so."

He reached for his hat and stood waiting for the answer, but Mrs.

Campbell avoided the issue.