“There it is,” he cried, with a fierce oath. “Ther’s my bank-book. Ther’s seventy odd thousand dollars lyin’ in the Spawn City bank to my dogasted credit. See?” He glared; then he drew a step nearer and bent forward. “I’m handin’ you a check fer your dust,” he went on. “I’ve seventy thousand dollars says I’m a better man than James an’ all his rotten scum, an’ that I’m goin’ to shoot him to hell before the week’s out. Now d’ye get me?”
Minky gasped. He had always believed he had long since fathomed the depths of his wild friend. He had always believed that the gambler had no moods which were not well known to him. He had seen him under almost every condition of stress. Yet here was a side to his character he had never even dreamed of, and he was flabbergasted.
For a moment he had no words with which to adequately reply, and he merely shook his head. Instantly the other flew into one of his savage paroxysms by which it was so much his habit to carry through his purpose when obstructed.
“You stand there shakin’ your fool head like some mosey old cow,” he cried, with a ruddy flush suddenly mounting to his temples. “An’ you’ll go on shakin’ it till ther’ ain’t ‘dust’ enuff in your store to bury a louse. You’ll go on shakin’ it till James’ gun rips out your vitals. Gee!” He threw his arms above his head appealing. “Give me a man,” he cried. Then he brought one fist crashing down upon the table and shouted his final words: “Say, you’ll get right out an’ post the notices. I’m buyin’ your ‘dust,’ an’ I’m driving the stage.”
CHAPTER XXVI
WILD BILL INSPECTS HIS CLAIM
Suffering Creek awoke on the Monday morning laboring under a hideous depression of nightmare. There was no buoyancy in the contemplation of the day’s “prospect.” It was as though that wholesome joy of life which belongs to the “outdoor” man had suddenly been snatched away, and only the contemplation of a dull round of unprofitable labor had been left for the burdened mind to dwell upon.
It was in this spirit that Joe Brand rubbed his eyes and pulled on his moleskin trousers. It was in this spirit that the miner, White, slouching along to the store for breakfast, saw and greeted him.