Wunpost Part 7

"Oh, he ain't, hey?" mocked Dusty, leaving his burros to browse while he strode triumphantly up to her. "Then jest look at _that_, 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 pa.s.sed 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--_I_ would, if I were him.

What'd you do with that five thousand dollars?"

"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 n.o.body--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 ye _this_ rock 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 ever _saw_ this 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't _dare_ to 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 instant decision; "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, _he_ never found no mine! I know it--it can't be possible!"

CHAPTER IX

A NEW DEAL

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 seeing him, 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.

"h.e.l.lo!" 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 give that 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 to _n.o.body_!"

"Well, you don't need to think that _I_ care!" she spoke up resentfully, "n.o.body 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 to beat him at law. We've switched the deal now and he can play _my_ game 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 at _that_!" 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 can _I_ have 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'll make 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't _think_! Maybe I can't beat them crooks when I play their own game, but this time _I 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's _wrong_. I'm out to scalp 'em, see, and just to convince you we'll begin by building that road. Your old man is wrong, 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 be _gone_, you understand--it'll be moving day for him--but I'll chase him to the hottest stope in h.e.l.l. 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.

CHAPTER X

THE SHORT SPORTS

The booming mining camp of Blackwater stood under the rim of a high mesa, between it and an alkali flat, and as Wunpost rode in he looked it over critically, though with none too friendly eyes. Being laid out in a land of magnificent distances, there was plenty of room between the houses, and the broad main street seemed more suited for driving cattle than for accommodating the scant local traffic. There had been a time when all that s.p.a.ce was needed to give swing-room to twenty-mule teams, but that time was past and the two spa.r.s.e rows of houses seemed dwarfed and pitifully few. Yet there were new ones going up, and quite a sprinkling of tents; and down on the corner Wunpost saw a big building which he knew must be Judson Eells' bank.

It had sprung up in his absence, a pretentious structure of solid concrete, and as he jogged along past it Wunpost swung his head and looked it over scornfully. The walls were thick and strong, but that was no great credit, for in that desert country any man who would get water could mix concrete until he was tired. All in the world he had to do was to scoop up the ground and pour the mud into the molds, and when it was set he had a natural concrete, composed of lime and coa.r.s.e gravel and bone-dry dust. Half the burro-corrals in Blackwater were built out of concrete, but Eells had put up a big false front. This had run into money, the ornately stamped tin-work having been shipped all the way from Los Angeles; and there were two plate-gla.s.s windows that framed a pa.s.sing view of marble pillars and shining bra.s.s grilles. Wunpost took it all in and then hissed through his teeth--the money that had built it was his!

"I'll skin him!" he muttered, and pulled up down the street before Old Whiskers' populous saloon. Several men drifted out to speak to him as he tied his horse and pack, but he greeted them all with such a venomous glare that they shied off and went across the street. There there stood a rival saloon, rushed up in Wunpost's absence; but after looking it over he went into Whiskers' Place, which immediately began to fill up.

The coming of Wunpost had been noted from afar, and a man who buys his grub with jewelry gold-specimens is sure to have a following. He slouched in sulkily and gazed at Old Whiskers, who was chewing on his tobacco like a ruminative billygoat and pretending to polish the bar. It was borne in on Whiskers that he had refused Wunpost a drink on the day he had walked out of camp, but he was hoping that the slight was forgotten; for if he could keep him in his saloon all the others would soon be vacated, now that Wunpost was the talk of the town. He had found one mine and lost it and gone out and found another one while the rest of them were wearing out shoe-leather; and a man like that could not be ignored by the community, no matter if he did curse their town. So Whiskers chewed on, not daring to claim his friendship, and Wunpost leaned against the bar.

"Gimme a drink," he said laying fifteen cents before him; and as several men moved forward he scowled at them in silence and tossed off his _solamente_. "Cr-ripes!" he shuddered, "did you make that yourself?" And when Whiskers, caught unawares, half acquiesced, Wunpost drew himself up and burst forth. "I believe it!" he announced with an oracular nod, "I can taste the burnt sugar, the fusel oil, the wood alcohol and everything. One drink of that stuff would strike a stone Injun blind if it wasn't for this dry desert air. They tell me, Whiskers, that when you came to this town you brought one barrel of whiskey with you--and that you ain't ordered another one since. That stuff is all right for those that like it--I'm going across the street."