“Yes,” nodded Wunpost, and she ran on unheeding as he drew down the corners of his mouth. But he could agree to that quite readily, for he knew from his own experience that all Eells wanted was the mine. It was only a question now of what move he would make next to bring about the consummation of that wish. For it was Eells’ next move, since, according to Wunpost’s reasoning, the magnate was already whipped. His plans for tracing Wunpost to the source of his wealth had ended in absolute disaster and the only other move he could possibly make would be along the line of compromise. Wunpost had told him flat that he would not go near his mine, no one else knew even its probable location; and yet, when he had gone to him and suggested some compromise, Eells had refused even to consider it. Therefore he must have other plans in view.
But all this was far away and almost academic to the lovelorn John C. Calhoun, and if Eells never approached him on the matter of the Sockdolager it would be soon enough for him. What he wanted was the privilege of helping Billy feed the chickens and throw down hay to his mules, and then to wander off up the trail to the tunnel that opened out on the sordid world below. There the restless money-grabbers were rushing to and fro in their fight for 230what treasures they knew, but one kiss from Wilhelmina meant more to him now than all the gold in the world. But her kisses, like gold, came when least expected and were denied when he had hoped for them most; and the spell he held over her seemed once more near to breaking, for on the third day he forgot himself and talked. No, it was not just talk–he boasted of his mine, and there for the first time they jarred.
“Well, I don’t care,” declared Wilhelmina, “if you have got a rich mine! That’s no reason for saying that Father’s is no good; because it is, if it only had a road.”
Now here, if ever, was the golden opportunity for remaining silent and looking intelligent; but Wunpost forgot his early resolve and gave way to an ill-timed jest.
“Yes,” he said, “that’s like the gag the Texas land-boomer pulled off when he woke up and found himself in hell. ‘If it only had a little more rain and good society─’”
“Now you hush up!” she cried, her lips beginning to tremble. “I guess we’ve got enough trouble, without your making fun of it─”
“No. I’m not making fun of you!” protested Wunpost stoutly. “Haven’t I offered to build you a road? Well, what’s the use of fiddling around, packing silver ore down on burros, when you know from the start it won’t pay? First thing you folks know Judson Eells will come down on you and grab the whole mine for nothing. Why not take some of my money 231that I’ve buried under a rock and put in that aerial tramway?”
“Because we don’t want to!” answered Wilhelmina tearfully; “my father wants a road. And I don’t think it’s very kind of you, after all we have suffered, to speak as if we were fools. If it wasn’t for that waterspout that washed away our road we’d be richer than you are, today!”
“Oh, I don’t know!” drawled Wunpost; “you don’t know how rich I am. I can take my mules and be back here in three days with ten thousand dollars worth of ore!”
“You cannot!” she contradicted, and Wunpost’s eyes began to bulge–he was not used to lovely woman and her ways.