“Yes, the hell,” she returned, “and he’s warned off all comers and is holding the mine for Blount!”
“For Blount!” he echoed and, seeing him roused at last, the Widow became subtly provocative.
60“For Samuel J. Blount,” she repeated impressively. “He–he’s got all my stock on a loan.”
“Oh!” observed Wiley, and as she raved on with her story he rubbed his chin in deep thought.
“Yes, I went down to see him and he wouldn’t buy it, so I left it as collateral on a loan. And then he came out here and looked over the mine again and told Stiff Neck George to stand guard. They’re fixing to pump out the water.”
“Oho!” exclaimed Wiley, and his eyes began to kindle as he realized what Blount had done. Then reaching for the pistol that lay handy beside his leg, he leapt out with waspish quickness, only to stop short as he hurt his lame foot.
“Go on!” hissed the Widow, advancing to his shoulder and pointing the way up the trail. “He stays right there by the dump. The mine is yours; go put him off–I would, if I had my gun.”
“Aw, pfooey!” he exclaimed, suddenly turning back and clamoring into his seat. “I’ve got one game leg already. Let ’im have the doggoned mine.”
“What? Are you going to back out? Well, you are a good one–and it stands in your name, this minute!”
“Yes, and it isn’t worth–that!” he said with conviction, and snapped his finger in the air. “He can have it. You can tell Blount, the next time you see him, he can buy in that tax title for the costs.”