“Aw, cripes,” scoffed Wunpost, “you can’t win all the time–why don’t you take your medicine like a sport? Didn’t I name the danged hole The Stinging Lizard? Well, there was your warning–but you got stung!”
He laughed heartily at the joke and looked up the street, ignoring the staring crowd.
“Well, got to go!” he said. “Where is that road you built–like to go up and take a look at it!”
“It extends up Jail Canyon,” returned the banker grimly. “I understand Mr. Campbell is using it.”
“Pretty work!” exclaimed Wunpost, “won’t be wasted, anyhow. That’ll come in right handy for Cole. Why didn’t you buy the old hassayamper out?”
“He won’t sell!” grumbled Eells, “say, come in here a minute–I’ve got something I want to talk over.”
He led the way into his inner office, where an electric fan was running, and Wunpost took off his big, black hat to loll before the breeze.
“Pretty nice,” he pronounced, “they’ve got lots of ’em in Los. But I never suffered so much from heat in my life–the poor fools all wear coats! Gimme the desert, every time!”
“So you’ve come back to stay, eh?” inquired Eells unsociably, “I thought you’d left these parts.”
“Yep–left and came back,” replied Wunpost lightly. “Say, how much do you want for that contract? You might as well release me, because 117it’ll never buy you anything–you’ve got all the mines you’ll get.”