“Sure it was salted!” agreed Wunpost, laughing exultantly, “but you Blackwater stiffs will bite at anything. Did I ever claim it was a mine? I’m a bull-shover, am I? Well, when did I ever come here and try to sell somebody a mine? No; I came into town with some Sockdolager ore, and you dastards all tried to get me drunk; and I finally made a deal with the barkeep at The Mint to show him the place for a thousand dollar bill. Well, didn’t I show him the place–and didn’t he come back more than satisfied with his pockets bursting out with the gold? He never had no kick–I met him in Los Angeles and he told me he had sold the rock for thirteen hundred dollars to a jeweler. But say, my friends, don’t you 154 think I knew where he would go to get that thousand dollar bill? Do you think I was so drunk I expected a barkeeper to have thousand dollar bills in his pocket? No; I knowed who he would go to, and Eells gave him the bill and a pocket full of Boston beans; but he lost them on the road, so I brought him down Jail Canyon and old-scout Lynch here, he followed my tracks!
“Wasn’t that wonderful, now? He followed our tracks back and he found the Stinging Lizard Mine–and then, of course, he jumped it! That’s his job, when he ain’t licking old Judson Eells’ boots or framing up some crooked deal with Flappum; and then he went back and told Eells. And then Eells–you know him–being as he’d stole the mine from me, like all crooks he thought it was valuable. Was it up to me then to go to Mr. Eells and tell him that the mine was salted? Would you have done it–would anybody? Well, he thought he had me cinched, and I sold out for twenty thousand dollars. And now, my friend, you said a moment ago that I’d never seen seven thousand dollars. All right, I say you never did! But just, by grab, to show you who’s four-flushing I’ll put you out of your misery–I’ll show you seven thousand, savvy?”
He stuck out his head and gazed insolently into the man’s face and then drew out his wad of bills. They were badly sweated, but the numbers were there–he peeled off seven bills and waved them airily, then laughed and shoved them into his overalls.
155“Tuh hell with you!” he burst out defiantly, consigning all Blackwater to perdition with one grand, oratorical flourish. “You think you’re so smart,” he went on tauntingly, “now come and trail me to my mine. If you find it you can have it–it ain’t even staked–but they ain’t one of you dares to follow me. I ain’t afraid of Eells and his hired yaller dog, and I ain’t afraid of you! I’ll take you all on–old Eells and all the rest of you–and I ain’t afraid to show you the ore!”
He strode into the Express office and grabbed up a sack, which he cut open with a slash of his knife; and then he reached in and took out a great chunk that bulged and gleamed with gold.
“Am I four-flushing?” he inquired, and when no one answered he grunted and tied up the hole. There was a silence, and the crowd began to filter away–all but Lynch, who stood staring like an Indian. Then he too turned away, his haggard eyes blinking fast, like a woman on the verge of bitter tears.
156CHAPTER XVI
DIVINE PROVIDENCE
The thundercaps were gleaming like silver in the heat when Wunpost rode back to Jail Canyon; but he came on almost merrily, a sopping bath-towel about his neck and his shirt pulled out, like a Chinaman’s. These were the last days of September when the clouds which had gathered for months at last were giving down their rain; and the air, now it was humid, seemed to open every pore and make the sweat run in rivulets. Wunpost perspired, but he was happy, and as he neared the silent house he whistled shrilly for his dog. Good Luck came out for a moment, looked down at him reproachfully, and crawled back under the house, Yes, it was hot in the canyon, for the ridge cut off the wind and the rimrock reflected yet more heat, but Wunpost was happy through it all. He had told Blackwater where it could go.
Not Eells and Lynch alone, but the citizens at large, collectively and as individuals; and he had planted the seeds of envy and rage to rankle in their hairy breasts. He had shown them his gold, to make them yearn to find it, and his money to make 157them envy him his wealth; and then he had left them to stew in their own juice, for Blackwater was as hot as Jail Canyon. He was riding a horse now, and, in addition to Old Walker, he had a third mule, heavily packed; and he was headed for the hills to hide still more food and water against the chase that was sure to come. Sooner or later they would follow on his trail, those petty, hateful souls who now sat in the barrooms and gasped like fish for breath; but they were waiting, forsooth, for the weather to cool down and the cloudbursts to finish their destruction. And that was the very reason why they would never find his mine–they were afraid to take his chances.