“How’d you guess it?” he inquired; but she did not tell him, for of course they were supposed to be friends. Yes, good friends, and more–she had let him kiss her once, but now he seemed to have forgotten it. He ate supper greedily and went back to the corral to sleep, and in the morning he was gone.
The early-risers at Blackwater, out to look for their burros or to get a little eye-opener at the saloon, were astonished to see his mules in the adobe corral and Wunpost himself on the street. He was reputed to be in hiding from Pisen-face Lynch, who 150had been inquiring for him for over a week; and the news was soon passed to Lynch himself, for Blackwater had a grudge against Wunpost. He had made the town, yes, in a manner of speaking–for of course he had discovered the Willie Meena Mine and brought in Eells and the boomers–but never to their knowledge had he spoken a good word of them, or of anything else in town. He came swaggering down their streets as if he owned the place, or had enough money to buy it–and besides, he had led them on two disastrous stampedes in which no one had even located a claim. And the Stinging Lizard Mine was salted! Hence their haste to tell Lynch and the malevolent zeal with which they maneuvered to bring them together.
Wunpost was standing before the Express office, waiting for the agent to open up and receive his ore-sacks for shipment, when he espied his enemy advancing, closely followed by an expectant crowd. Lynch was still haggard and emaciated from his hard trip through Death Valley, and his face had the pallor of indoors; but his small, hateful eyes seemed to burn in their sockets and he walked with venomous quickness. But Wunpost stood waiting, his head thrust out and his gun pulled well to the front, and Lynch came to a sudden halt.
“So there you are!” he burst out accusingly, “you low-down, poisoning whelp! You poisoned that water, you know you did, and I’ve a danged good mind to kill ye!”
“Hop to it!” invited Wunpost, “just git them 151rubbernecks away. I ain’t scared of you or nobody!”
He paused, and the rubbernecks betook themselves away, but Pisen-face Lynch did not shoot. He stood in the street, shifting his feet uneasily, and Wunpost opened the vials of scorn.
“You’re bad, ain’t you?” he taunted. “You’re so bad your face hurts you, but you can’t run no blazer on me. And just because you chased me clean down into Death Valley you don’t need to think I’m afraid. I was just showing you up as a desert-man, et cetery, but if any man had told me you’d drink that poisoned water I’d’ve said he was crazy with the heat. You’re a lovely looking specimen of humanity! What’s the matter–didn’t you like them Epsom salts?”
“There was arsenic in that water!” charged Pisen-face fiercely. “I had it analyzed–you were trying to kill me!”
“Why, sure there was arsenic,” returned Wunpost mockingly, “don’t you know that rank, fishy smell? But don’t blame me–it was God Almighty that threw the mixture together. And didn’t I leave you a drink in that empty can? Well, where is your proper gratitude?”
He ogled him sarcastically and Lynch took a step forward, only to halt as Wunpost stepped to meet him.