“Yes,” he said, “the mine was salted, but don’t let that keep you awake nights. I didn’t sell him the mine–he took it away from me and gave me twenty thousand for a quit-claim. And the twenty thousand 160 dollars was nothing to what I lost when he robbed me and Billy of our mine.”
“Why–why, Mr. Calhoun!” cried Mrs. Campbell in a shocked voice, “did you salt that mine on purpose?”
“You’d have thought so,” he returned, “if you’d seen me packing the ore. It took me nigh onto two weeks.”
Mrs. Campbell paused and gasped, but Wunpost met her gaze with a cold, unblinking stare. Her nice Scotch scruples were not for such as he, and if she crowded him too far he had an answer to her reproaches which would effectually reduce her to silence. But Billy knew that answer, and the reason for the gleam which played like heat-lightning in his eyes, and she hastened to stave off disaster.
“Oh, mother!” she protested, “now please don’t talk seriously to him or he’ll confess to almost anything. He told me a lot of stuff and I was dreadfully worried about it, but I found out he only did it to tease me. And besides, you know yourself that Mr. Eells did take advantage of us and trick us out of our mine–and if it hadn’t been for that we could have built the road ourselves without being beholden to anybody.”
“But Billy, child!” she chided, “just think what you’re saying. Is it any excuse that others are dishonest? Well, I must say I’m surprised!”
“Oh, you’re surprised, are you?” spoke up Wunpost, rising ponderously to his feet. “Well, if you don’t like my style, just say so.”
161He reached for his hat and stood waiting for the answer, but Mrs. Campbell avoided the issue.
“It is not for us to judge our neighbors–the Bible says: Judge not, lest ye be judged–but I’m sorry, Mr. Calhoun, that you think so poorly of us as to boast of the deception you practised. He’s no friend of us, this Judson Eells, but surely you cannot think it was aught but dishonest to sell him a salted mine. Vengeance is mine, saith the Lord, and because he took your property is no excuse for committing a crime.”
“A crime!” repeated Wunpost, and turned to look at Billy, who hung her head regretfully. “Did you hear that?” he asked. “She says I’m a criminal! Well, I won’t bother you folks any more. But before I go, Mrs. Campbell, I might as well tell you that these criminals sometimes come in danged handy. Suppose I’d buried that ore in Happy Canyon, for instance, or over the summit in Hanaupah–where would the Campbell family be for a road? They wouldn’t have one, would they? And this here Providence that you talk about would be distributing its rewards to others. But there’s too many good people for the rewards to go around–that’s why some of us get out and rustle. No, you want to be thankful that a criminal came along and took a flyer at being Providence himself; otherwise you’d be stuck with your mine on your hands–because I gave you that road, myself.”