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  CHAPTER VI

  ALL CRAZY

  The wind was still blowing when Wiley was awakened by the cold of theOctober morning. In the house all was dark, on account of the blanketswhich Death Valley had nailed over the windows, but outside he couldhear the thump of an axe and the whining yelp of a dog. Then Charleycame in, his arms full of wood, and lit a roaring fire in the stove.Wiley dozed off again, for his leg had pained him and kept him awakehalf the night, and when he woke up it was to the strains of music andthe mournful howls of Heine.

  "Ah, you are so confectionate!" exclaimed Charley in honeyed tones andlaughed and patted him on the back. "Don't you like the fiddle, Heine?Well, listen to this now; the sweetest song of all."

  He stopped the rasping phonograph to put on another record and whenHeine heard "Listen to the Mocking-bird" he barked and leapt with joy.Wiley listened for awhile, then he stirred in bed and at last he triedto get up; but his leg was very stiff and old Charley was oblivious, sohe sank back and waited impatiently. Heine sat upon the floor before thelargest of three phonographs, which ground out the Mocking-bird withvariations; and each time he heard the whistled notes of the bird herolled his eyes on Charley with a soulful, beseeching glance. Theevening before, when his master had cuffed him, Wiley had consideredHeine badly abused; but now as the concert promised to drag onindefinitely he was forced to amend his opinion.

  "Say," he spoke up at last, in a pause between records, "what's thechance of getting something to eat?"

  "Yes, there's plenty," answered Charley, and went on with his frolicuntil Wiley rose up in disgust. He had heated some water, besidestearing down a blanket and letting the daylight in, when there came ahurried knock at the door and the Widow appeared with his breakfast. Sheavoided his eyes, but her manner was ingratiating and she supplied theconversation herself.

  "Good morning!" she smiled,--"Charley, stop that awful racket and letHeine go out for his scraps. Well, I brought you yourbreakfast--Virginia isn't feeling very well--and I hope you're goingto be all right. No, get right back into bed and I'll prop you up withpillows; Charley's got a hundred or so. I declare, it's a questionwhich can grab the most; old Charley or Stiff Neck George. Every timeanyone moves out--and sometimes when they don't--you'll see those twoghouls hanging around; and the minute they're gone, well, you neversaw anything like it, the way they will fight for the loot. Charley'sgot a whole room filled up with bedding, and stoves and tables andchairs; and George--he's vicious--he takes nearly everything and pilesit up down in his warehouse. It isn't his, of course, but----"

  "He hauls it off in a wheelbarrow," broke in Charley, virtuously. "Hedon't care what he does. They was a widow woman here whose daughter gotsick and she had to go out for a week, and when she came back----"

  "Yes, her whole house was looted--he carried off even hersewing-machine!"

  "And a deep line of wheelbarrow tracks," added Charley, unctuously,"leading from her house right down to his. She nailed up all her windowsbefore she went, but he----"

  "Yes, he broke in," supplied the Widow. "He's a desperate characterand everybody is afraid of him, so he can do whatever he pleases; butyou bet your life he can't run it over me--I filled him up withbuckshot twice. Oh--that is--er--did you ever hear how he got his headtwisted? Well, go right ahead now and eat up your toast. I asked himone time--that was before we'd had our trouble--what was the cause ofhis head being to one side. He looks, you know, for all the world likehe was watching for a good kick from behind; but he tried to appearpathetic and told me a long story about saving a mother and her childin a flood. And when it was all over, according to him, he fell downin a faint in the mud; but the best accounts I get say he was deaddrunk in the gutter and woke up with his head on one side."

  She ended with a sniff and Wiley glanced at Charley, but he was staringblankly away.

  "I don't like that man," spoke up Charley at last, "he kicked my dog,one time."

  "And he bootlegs something awful," added the Widow, desperately, forfear that the chatter would lag. "There doesn't a day go by but somedrunken Piute comes whooping up the road, and that bunch ofShooshonnies----"

  "Yes, he sells to the bucks," observed Death Valley, slyly. "They're nogood--they get drunk and tell. But you can trust the squaws--I had onehere yesterday----"

  "You what?" shrieked the Widow, and Charley looked up startled, thenrose and whistled to his dog.

  "Go lay down!" he commanded and slapped him till he yelped, after whichhe slipped fearfully away.

  "The very idea!" exclaimed the Widow frigidly and then she glanced atWiley.

  "Mr. Holman," she began, "I came out here to talk business--there'snothing round-the-corner about me. Now what about this tax sale, andwhat does Blount mean by allowing you to buy it in for nothing?"

  "Well, I don't know," answered Wiley. "He refused to pay the taxes, so Ibought in the property myself."

  "Yes, but what does he _mean_?"

  The Widow's voice rose to the old quarrelsome, nagging pitch, and Wileywinced as if he had been stabbed.

  "You'll have to ask _him_, Mrs. Huff, to find out for sure; but toa man with one leg it looks like this. Whatever you can say about him,Samuel J. is a business man, and I think he decided that, as a businessinvestment, the Paymaster wasn't worth eighty-three, forty-one.Otherwise he would have bought it himself."

  "Unless, of course," added the Widow scornfully, "there was someunderstanding between you."

  "Oh, yes, sure," returned Wiley, and went on with his eating with awearied, enduring sigh.

  "Well, I declare," exclaimed the Widow, after thinking it over,"sometimes I get so discouraged with the whole darned business you couldbuy me out for a cent!"

  She waited for a response, but Wiley showed no interest, so she went onwith her general complaint.

  "First, it was the Colonel, with his gambling and drinking and invitingthe whole town to his house; and then your father, or whoever it was,started all this stock market fuss; and from that time it's gone frombad to worse until I haven't a dollar to my name. I was brought up to bea lady--and so was Virginia--and now we're keeping a restaurant!"

  Wiley pulled down his lip in masterful silence and set the breakfasttray aside. It was nothing to him what the Widow Huff suffered--she hadbrought it all on herself. And whenever she was ready to write to hisfather she could receive her ten cents a share. That would keep her as alady for several years to come, if she had as many shares as sheclaimed; but there was nothing to his mind so flat, stale andunprofitable as a further discussion of the Paymaster. Indeed, with oneleg wound up in a bandage, it might easily prove disastrous. So helooked away and, after a minute, the Widow again took up her plaint.

  "Of course," she said, "I'm not a business woman, and I may have madesome mistakes; but it doesn't seem right that Virginia's future shouldbe ruined, just because of this foolish family quarrel. The Colonel isdead now and doesn't have to be considered; so--well, after thinking itover, and all the rest of it, I think I'll accept your offer."

  "Which offer?" demanded Wiley, suddenly startled from his ennui, and theWidow regarded him sternly.

  "Why, your offer to buy my stock--that paper you drew up for me. Here itis, and I'm willing to sign it."

  She drew out the paper and Wiley read it silently, then rolled it into aball and chucked it into the corner.

  "No," he said, "that offer doesn't hold. I didn't know you then."

  "Well, you know me now!" she flashed back resentfully, "and you'd bettercome through with that money. I've taken enough off of you and yourfather without standing for any more of your gall. Now you write me outa check for twenty thousand dollars and here's my two hundred thousandshares. I know you're robbing me but I simply can't endure it--I can'tstay here a single day longer!"

  She burst into angry tears as he shook his head and regarded her withsteady eyes.

  "No," he said, "you can't do business that way. I haven't got twentythousand dollars."

  "But--you offered it to me! You wrote out
this paper and put it rightunder my eyes----"

  "No," he said, "I never offered you twenty thousand--I offered to takean option at that price. I wanted to see that mine, and I wanted to seeit peaceably, and I thought I could do it that way; but that piece ofpaper simply gave me the option of buying the stock if I wanted to."

  "Well, you wanted to buy the stock--you were crazy to get hold ofit--and now, when I'm willing, you won't take it!"

  "No, that's right," agreed Wiley, leaning back against his pillow. "Andnow, what are you going to do about it?"

  "I'm going to kill you!" shrieked the Widow in a frenzy. "I'm going to_make_ you take it! I declare, it seems like every single soul isagainst me--and me a poor helpless woman!"

  She sank back in a chair and began to sob hysterically and Wiley lookedabout for the old shotgun. It was far too short, but it had served onceas a crutch, and in a pinch it must serve him again. Keno was no placefor him, he saw that very plainly, and it was better to risk the longdrive across the desert than to stay with this weeping virago. If shedidn't kill him then she would kill him later, and he was powerless tostrike back in defense. She would take advantage of every immunity ofher sex to obtain her own way in the end. He located the gun--it wasdown behind his bed where he had dropped it when they helped him in--butas he was fishing it up the door burst open and Virginia stood lookingat her mother. Behind her appeared Death Valley Charley, his eyesblinking fearfully; but at sight of the Widow he ducked around thecorner while Virginia came resolutely in.

  "Oh, mother!" she burst out in a pleading, reproachful voice, "can't yousee that Wiley is sick? Well, what's the use of creating a scene whenit's likely to make him worse?"

  "I don't care!" wailed the Widow. "I hope he dies. I wish I'd killedhim--I do!"

  "You do not!" returned Virginia, and shook her reprovingly. "I declare,I wonder what poor father would think if he heard how we'd treated aguest. Now you go back to the house and don't you come out again untilMr. Holman sends for you."

  "You shut up!" burst out the Widow, pushing her brusquely aside. "Iguess I know what I'm about. But I'll fool you," she cried, whirlingabout on Wiley as she started towards the door. "I'll sell my stock toBlount!"

  She paused for the effect but Wiley did not answer and she returned topursue her advantage.

  "I know you!" she announced. "You and old Honest John--you're trying tosteal my mine. But I'm going to fool you, I'm going right down to Vegasand sell every share to Blount!"

  "Well, go to it," returned Wiley after a long, defiant silence, "and Ihope you stick him a-plenty!"

  "Why, what's the matter?" inquired the Widow, brushing Virginia awayagain and swaggering up to his bed. "I thought you and Blount were goodfriends."

  "Yeh, guess again," replied Wiley grimly. "I'll tell him the mine showsup fine."

  "Well, it does!" she asserted. "The Colonel said it wasn't scratched.And didn't you steal that piece of quartz from Virginia? Oh, you gave itback, eh? Well, how did it assay? I know you found _something_pretty good!"

  "How could I give it back, if I'd had it assayed?" asked Wiley withcompelling calm.

  "Well what _did_ you come back for?" demanded the Widow,triumphantly. "You must have figured to win somewhere."

  "Yes, I did," sighed Wiley, "but I was badly mistaken. All I want now isto get out of town."

  "Well, how about your father? That offer he made me! Has he backed outon that, too?"

  "No, he hasn't," answered Wiley, "my father keeps his word. You can getyour money any time."

  "Well, of all the crazy crooked deals," the Widow began to rave, andthen Wiley grabbed for the shotgun.

  "It may be crazy!" he shouted savagely, "but believe me, it isn'tcrooked. My father never did a crooked thing in his life, and you knowit as well as I do; and if it wasn't that you're such a crookyourself----"

  "Wiley Holman!" raged the Widow, but he rose up on his crutch andshouldered his way out the door.

  "You're crazy!" he yelled, "the whole danged town's crazy. All exceptold Charley and me."

  He jerked his head and winked at Charley as he hobbled towards thestreet and Death Valley nodded gravely. There was a long, hatefulsilence; then the great motor roared out and the white racer rushed awayacross the desert.

  "Well, I don't care!" declared the Widow as she gazed after his dust andwhen the stage went out that day it took a lady passenger to Vegas.