That settled it with Blackwater, they threw their money on the bar and tried to get him drunk, but Wunpost would drink with none of them.
“No, you bunch of bootlickers!” he shouted angrily, “go on away, I won’t have nothing to do with you! When I was broke you wouldn’t treat me and now that I’m flush I reckon I can buy my own liquor. You’re all sucking around old Eells, saying he made the town–I made your danged town myself! Didn’t I discover the Willie Meena–and ain’t that what made the town? Well, go chase yourselves, you suckers, I’m through with ye! You did me dirt when you thought I was cleaned and now you can all go to blazes!”
He shook hands with the friendly barkeeper, told him to keep the change, and fought his way out to the street. The crowd of boomers, still refusing to be insulted, trooped shamelessly along in his wake; and when he unpacked his mule and took out two heavy, heavy ore-sacks even Judson Eells cast aside his dignity. He had looked on from afar, standing in front of the plate-glass window which had “Willie Meena Mining Company” across it; but at a signal from Lynch, who had been acting as his lookout, he came running to demand his rights. The acquisition of The Wunpost and The Willie Meena properties had by no means satisfied his lust; and since this one crazy prospector–who of all men he had grubstaked 95seemed the only one who could find a mine–had for the third time come in with rich ore, he felt no compunctions about claiming his share.
“Where’d you get that ore?” he demanded of Wunpost as the crowd opened up before him and Wunpost glanced at him fleeringly.
“I stole it!” he said and went on sorting out specimens which he stuffed into his well-worn overalls.
“I asked you where!” returned Eells, drawing his lip up sternly, and Wunpost turned to the crowd.
“You see?” he jeered, “I told you he was crooked. He wants to go and steal some himself.” He laughed, long and loud, and some there were who joined in with him, for Eells was not without his enemies. To be sure he had built the bank, and established his offices in Blackwater when he might have started a new town at the mine; but no moneylender was ever universally popular and Eells was ruthless in exacting his usury. But on the other hand he had brought a world of money in to town, for the Willie Meena had paid from the first; and it was his pay-roll and the wealth which had followed in his wake that had made the camp what it was; so no one laughed as long or as loud as John C. Calhoun and he hunched his shoulders and quit.
“Never you mind where I stole it!” he said to Eells, “I stole it, and that’s enough. Is there anything in your contract that gives you a cut on everything I steal?”
“Why–why, no,” replied Eells, “but that isn’t 96the point–I asked you where you got it. If it’s stolen, that’s one thing, but if you’ve located another mine─”
“I haven’t!” put in Wunpost, “you’ve broke me of that. The only way I can keep anything now is to steal it. Because, no matter what it is, if I come by it honestly, you and your rabbit-faced lawyer will grab it; but if I go out and steal it you don’t dare to claim half, because that would make you out a thief. And of course a banker, and a big mining magnate, and the owner of the famous Willie Meena–well, it just isn’t done, that’s all.”