Bill’s words rapped out with biting force, and Sandy, knowing the man, waited, solemn-eyed. Just for one moment astonishment held his audience breathless. Then some one sniggered, and it became the cue for an instantaneous and general guffaw of derision. Every face was wreathed in a broad grin. The humor of this thing was too much. Zip’s claim! Bill, the keen, unscrupulous gambler, had fallen for Zip’s mud-hole on the banks of Suffering Creek!
Bill waited. The laugh was what he needed, so he waited till it died out. As it did so he kicked back his chair and stood up, his tall figure and hard face a picture of cold challenge.
“You’re that merry, folks,” he said, his teeth clipping each word, “that maybe some o’ you got something to say. I’d like to hear it. No?” as he waited. But no one seemed anxious to comment. “Joe Brand kind o’ seems fond o’ buttin’ in––mebbe he’ll oblige.”
But the young miner was not to be drawn. Bill shrugged his lean shoulders, his fierce eyes alight with a dangerous fire.
“Wal,” he went on, “I don’t guess I ken make folks talk if they don’t notion it. But I want to say right here I bought ha’f o’ Zip’s claim fer good dollars, an’ I’m goin’ to pay Sandy Joyce a tiptop wage fer workin’ my share. An’”––he paused and glanced swiftly and defiantly at the faces which were no longer smiling––“an’ I want to say I bought the richest lay-out in this bum camp. Any feller who ain’t o’ the same opinion ken git right up on to his hind legs an’ call me a ‘liar’––an’ I’m jest yearnin’ fer some feller to git around an’ call me that. Jest turn it over in your fool heads. You don’t need to hurry any. Ther’s days an’ days to come, an’ at any time I’ll be glad fer all o’ you to come along an’ tell me I’m––a liar.”
He paused, his fierce eyes gleaming. He felt good. His outburst had relieved his pent feelings. It was a safety-valve which had worked satisfactorily at the right moment. But as he received no answer to his challenge he turned to Sandy.
“Ther’ don’t seem to be nuthin’ doin’,” he said, with a grim smile. “So ef you’ll come right along we’ll fix things out in the store. Guess you ken finish your hash after.”
Sandy rose. For a moment Bill did not attempt to move. It was as though he were giving the rest of the boarders one last chance of accepting his challenge. But as no one offered any comment or made any attempt to stay him, he turned away at last with a sigh which was probably of disappointment, and led the way out into the store.
But if the men had made no comment in his presence, it was a different matter after his departure. Loud indignation broke out, and fierce, if impotent, protest passed from lip to lip. It was only for a few moments, however, and presently anger gave place to a realization of the absurdity of the whole thing.
The humor of these men was tickled. The whole thing was too ludicrous for words. To think that Wild Bill, the renowned sharp, the shrewdest, the wisest man on Suffering Creek, had fallen for such a proposition! It was certainly the funniest, the best joke that had ever come their way. How had it happened? they asked each other. Had Zip been clever enough to “salt” his claim? It was hardly likely. Only they knew he was hard up, and it was just possible, with his responsibilities weighing heavily on him, he had resorted to an illicit practice to realize on his property. They thought of and discussed every possible means they could think of by which Bill could have been lured to the hook––and caught––and landed. That was the joke. It was astounding. It was too good. To-morrow the whole camp would be ringing with laughter at the news, but––but the laughter was not likely to reach the gambler’s ears.