CHAPTER XXIII
THE RETURN OF THE BLOW-HARD
Nothing was seen of John C. Calhoun for nearly a week and then, late oneevening, he stepped in on Judson Eells in his office at the BlackwaterBank.
"Why--why, Mr. Calhoun!" he gasped, "we--we all thought you were dead!"
"Yes," returned Calhoun, whose arm was in a sling, "I thought so myselffor a while. What's the good word from Mr. Lynch?"
Eells dropped back in his chair and stared at him fixedly.
"Why--we haven't been able to locate him. But you, Mr. Calhoun--we'vebeen looking for you everywhere. Your riding mule came back with hissaddle all bloody and a bullet wound across his hip and the Campbellswere terribly distressed. We've had search-parties out everywhere but noone could find you and at last you were given up for dead."
"Yes, I saw some of those search-parties," answered Wunpost grimly, "butI noticed that they all packed Winchesters. What's the idee in trying tokill me?"
"Why, we aren't trying to kill you!" burst out Judson Eells vehemently."Quite the contrary, we've been trying to find you. But perhaps you cantell us about poor Mr. Lynch--he has disappeared completely."
"What about them Apaches?" inquired Wunpost pointedly, and Judson Eellswent white.
"Why--what Apaches?" he faltered at last and Wunpost regarded himsternly.
"All right," he said, "I don't know nothing if you don't. But I reckonthey turned the trick. That Manuel Apache was a bad one." He reachedback into his hip-pocket and drew out a coiled-up scalp-lock. "There'shis hair," he stated, and smiled.
"What? Did you kill him?" cried Eells, starting up from his chair, butWunpost only shrugged enigmatically.
"I ain't talking," he said. "Done too much of that already. What I'vecome to say is that I've buried all my money and I'm not going back tothat mine. So you can call off your bad-men and your murdering ApacheIndians, because there's no use following me now. Thinking about takinga little trip for my health."
He paused expectantly but Judson Eells was too shocked to make anyproper response. His world was tumbling about him, all his plans hadcome to naught--and Lynch was gone. He longed to question further, toseek out some clew, but he dared not, for his hands were not clean. Hehad hired this Apache whose grisly scalp-lock now lay before him, andthe others who had been with Lynch; and if it ever became known----Heshuddered and let his lip drop.
"This is horrible!" he burst out hoarsely, "but why should they killLynch?"
"And why should they kill _me_?" added Wunpost. "You've got anerve," he went on, "bringing those devils into the country--don't youknow they're as treacherous as a rattlesnake? No, you've been going toofar; and it's a question with me whether I won't report the wholebusiness to the sheriff. But what's the use of making trouble? All Iwant is that contract--and this time I reckon I'll get it."
He nodded confidently but Judson Eells' proud lip went up and instantlyhe became the bold financier.
"No," he said, "you'll never get it, Mr Calhoun--not until you take meto the Sockdolager Mine."
"Nothing doing," replied Wunpost "not for you or any other man. I stayaway from that mine, from now on. Why should I give up a half--ain't Igot thirty thousand dollars, hid out up here under a stone? Live and letlive, sez I, and if you'll call off your bad-men I'll agree not to talkto the sheriff."
"You can talk all you wish!" snapped out Eells with rising courage, "I'mnot afraid of your threats. And neither am I afraid of anything you cando to test the validity of that contract. It will hold, absolutely, inany court in the land; but if you will take me to your mine and turn itover in good faith, I will agree to cancel the contract."
"Oh! You don't want nothing!" hooted Wunpost sarcastically, "but I'lltell you what I will do--I'll give you thirty thousand dollars, cash."
"No! I've told you my terms, and there's no use coming back to me--it'sthe Sockdolager Mine or nothing."
"Suit yourself," returned Wunpost, "but I'm just beginning to wonderwhether I'm shooting it out with the right men. What's the use offighting murderers, and playing tag with Apache Indians, when the manthat sends 'em out is sitting tight? In fact, why don't I come in hereand get _you_?"
"Because you're wrong!" answered Eells without giving back an inch,"you're trying to evade the law. And any man that breaks the law is acoward at heart, because he knows that all society is against him."
"Sounds good," admitted Wunpost, "and I'd almost believe it if_you_ didn't show such a nerve But you know and I know that youbreak the law every day--and some time, Mr. Banker, you're going to getcaught. No, you can guess again on why I don't shoot you--I just like tosee you wiggle. I just like to see a big fat slob like you, that's gotthe whole world bluffed, twist around in his seat when a _man_comes along and tells him what a dastard he is. And besides, I git alaugh, every time I come back and you make me think of the StingingLizard--and the road! But the biggest laugh I get is when you pull thisvirtuous stuff, like the widow-robbing old screw you are, and then havethe nerve to tell me to my face that it's the Sockdolager Mine ornothing. Well, it's nothing then, Mr. Penny-pincher; and if I ever getthe chance I'll make you squeal like a pig. And don't send no moreApaches after _me_!"
He rose up and slapped the desk, then picked up the scalp-lock andstrode majestically out the door. But Judson Eells was unimpressed, forhe had seen them squirm before. He was a banker, and he knew all thesigns. Nor did John C. Calhoun laugh as he rode off through the night,for his schemes had gone awry again. Every word that he had said was astrue as Gospel and he could sit around and wait a life-time--but waitingwas not his long suit. In Los Angeles he seemed to attract all thebar-flies in the city, who swarmed about and bummed him for the drinks;and no man could stand their company for more than a few days withoutgetting thoroughly disgusted. And on the desert, every time he went outinto the hills he was lucky to come back with his life. So what was heto do, while he was waiting around for this banker to find out he waswhipped?
For Eells was whipped, he was foiled at every turn; and yet thatmuley-cow lip came up as stubbornly as ever and he tried to tell him,Wunpost, he was wrong. And that because he was wrong and a law-breakerat heart he was therefore a coward and doomed to lose. It was ludicrous,the way Eells stood up for his "rights," when everyone knew he was athief; and yet that purse-proud intolerance which is the hall-mark ofhis class made him think he was entirely right. He even had the nerve topreach little homilies about trying to evade the law. But that was it,his very self-sufficiency made him immune against anything but a club.He had got the idea into his George the Third head that the king can dono wrong--and he, of course was the king. If Wunpost made a threat, orconcealed the location of a mine, that was wrong, it was against thelaw; but Eells himself had hired some assassins who had shot him,Wunpost, twice, and yet Eells was game to let it go before thesheriff--he could not believe he was wrong.
Wunpost cursed that pride of class which makes all capitalists so hardto head and put the whole matter from his mind. He had hoped to comeback with that contract in his pocket, to show to the doubtingWilhelmina; but she had had enough of boasting and if he was ever to winher heart he must learn to feign a virtue which he lacked. That virtuewas humility, the attribute of slaves and those who are not born torule; but with her it was a virtue second only to that Scotch honestywhich made upright Cole Campbell lean backwards. He was so straight hewas crooked and cheated himself, so honest that he stood in his ownlight; and to carry out his principles he doomed his family to JailCanyon for the rest of their natural lives. And yet Wilhelmina loved himand was always telling what he said and bragging of what he had done,when anyone could see that he was bull-headed as a mule and hadn't onechance in ten thousand to win. But all the same they were good folks,you always knew where you would find them, and Wilhelmina was as prettyas a picture.
No rouge on those cheeks and yet they were as pink as the petals of ablushing rose, and her lips were as red as Los Angeles cherries and hereyes were as honest as the day. Nothing fly about he
r, she had notlearned the tricks that the candy-girls and waitresses knew, and yet shewas as wise as many a grown man and could think circles around him whenit came to an argument. She could see right through his bluffing and puther finger on the spot which convinced even him that he was wrong, butif he refrained from opposing her she was as simple as a child and heronly desire was to please. She was not self-seeking, all she wanted washis company and a chance to give expression to her thoughts; and when hewould listen they got on well enough, it was only when he boasted thatshe rebelled. For she could not endure his masculine complacency and hisassumption that success made him right, and when he had gone away shehad told him to his face that he was a blow-hard and his money wastainted.
Wunpost mulled this over, too, as he rode on up Jail Canyon and when hesighted the house he took Manuel Apache's scalp-lock and hid it insidehis pack. After risking his life to bring his love this token he thoughtbetter of it and brought only himself. He would come back a friend, onewho had seen trouble as they had but was not boasting of what he haddone--and if anyone asked him what he had done to Lynch he would pass itoff with some joke. So he talked too much, did he? All right, he wouldshow them; he would close his trap and say nothing; and in a weekWilhelmina would be following him around everywhere, just begging toknow about his arm. But no, he would tell her it was just a sadaccident, which no one regretted more than he did; and rather than seemto boast he would say in a general way that it would never happen again.And that would be the truth, because from what Eells had said he wassatisfied the Apaches had buried Lynch.
But how, now, was he to approach this matter of the money which he wasdetermined to advance for the road? That would call for diplomacy and hewould have to stick around a while before Billy would listen to reason.But once she was won over the whole family would be converted; for shewas the boss, after all. She wore the overalls at the Jail Canyon Ranchand in spite of her pretty ways she had a will of her own that would notbe denied. And when she saw him come back, like a man from the dead--hepaused and blinked his eyes. But what would _he_ say--would he tellher what had happened? No, there he was again, right back where he hadstarted from--the thing for him to do was to _keep still_. Saynothing about Lynch and catching Apaches in bear-traps, just look happyand listen to her talk.
It was morning and the sun had just touched the house which hung likedriftwood against the side of the hill. The mud of the cloudburst hadturned to hard pudding-stone, which resounded beneath his mule's feet.The orchard was half buried, the garden in ruins, the corral stillsmothered with muck; but as he rode up the new trail a streak of whitequit the house and came bounding down to meet him. It was Wilhelmina,still dressed in women's clothes but quite forgetful of everything buther joy; and when he dismounted she threw both arms about his neck, andcried when he gave her a kiss.