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 86him, 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 give 87that 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.