Wunpost. Coolidge Dane

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      Billy gazed away in ecstasy at the dust cloud in the distance, and at the white spot that was Tellurium, her mule; and when the rider came closer she skipped back through the tunnel and danced along the trail to the house. Dusty Rhodes was still there, describing in windy detail Wunpost’s encounter with one Pisen-face Lynch, but as she stood before them smiling he sensed the mischief in her eye and interrupted himself with a question.

      “He’s coming,” announced Billy, showing the dimples in both cheeks and Dusty Rhodes let his jaw drop.

      “Who’s coming?” he asked but she dimpled enigmatically and jerked her curly head towards the road. They started up to look and as the white mule rounded the point Dusty Rhodes blinked his eyes uncertainly. After all his talk about the faithless and cowardly Wunpost here he was, coming up the road; and the memory of a canteen which he had left strapped upon a pack, rose up and left him cold. Talk as much as he would he could never escape the fact that he had gone off with Wunpost’s 21big canteen, and the one subject he had avoided–why he had not stopped to wait for him–was now likely to be thoroughly discussed. He glanced about furtively, but there was no avenue of escape and he started off down to the gate.

      “Where you been all the time?” he shouted in accusing accents, “I’ve been looking for you everywhere.”

      “Yes, you have!” thundered Wunpost dropping down off his mule and striding swiftly towards him. “You’ve been lapping up the booze, over at Blackwater! I’ve a good mind to kill you, you old dastard!”

      “Didn’t I tell you not to stop?” yelled Rhodes in a feigned fury. “You brought it all on yourself! I thought you’d gone back─”

      “You did not!” shouted Wunpost waving his fists in the air, “you saw me behind you all the time. And if I’d ever caught up with you I’d have bashed your danged brains out, but now I’m going to let you live! I’m going to let you live so I can have a good laugh every time I see you go by–Old Dusty Rhodes, the Speed King, the Wild Ass of the Desert, the man that couldn’t stop to get rich! I was running along behind you trying to make you a millionaire but you wouldn’t even give me a drink! Look at that, what I was trying to show you!”

      He whipped out a rock and slapped it into Rhodes’ hand but Dusty was blind with rage.

      “No good!” he said, and chucked it in the dirt at which Wunpost stooped down and picked it up.

      22“You’re a peach of a prospector,” he said with biting scorn and stored it away in his pocket.

      “Let me look at that again,” spoke up Dusty Rhodes querulously but Wunpost had spied the ladies. He advanced to the porch, his big black hat in one hand, while he smoothed his towsled hair with the other, and the smile which he flashed Billy made her flush and then go pale, for she had neglected to change back to skirts. Every Sunday morning, and when they had visitors, she was required to don the true habiliments of her sex; but her joy at his return had left no room for thoughts of dress and she found herself in the overalls of a boy. So she stepped behind her mother and as Wunpost observed her blushes he addressed his remarks to Mrs. Campbell.

      “Glad to meet you,” he exclaimed with a gallantry quite surprising in a man who could not even spell “one.” “I hope you’ll excuse my few words with Mr. Rhodes. It’s been a long time since I’ve had the pleasure of meeting ladies and I forgot myself for the moment. I met your daughter yesterday–good morning, Miss Wilhelmina–and I formed a high opinion of you both; because a young lady of her breeding must have a mother to be proud of, and she certainly showed she was game. She saved my life with that water and lunch, and then she loaned me her mule!”

      He paused and Dusty Rhodes brought his bushy eyebrows down and stabbed him to the heart with his stare.

      23“Lemme look at that rock!” he demanded importantly and John C. Calhoun returned his glare.

      “Mr. Rhodes,” he said, “after the way you have treated me I don’t feel that I owe you any courtesies. You have seen the rock once and that’s enough. Please excuse me, I was talking with these ladies.”

      “Aw, you can’t fool me,” burst out Dusty Rhodes vindictively, “you ain’t sech a winner as you think. I’ve jest give Mrs. Campbell a bird’s-eye view of your career, so you’re coppered on that bet from the start.”

      “What do you mean?” demanded Wunpost drawing himself up arrogantly while his beetle-browed eyes flashed fire; but the challenge in his voice did not ring absolutely true and Dusty Rhodes grinned at him wickedly.

      “You’d better learn to spell Wunpost,” he said with a hectoring laugh, “before you put on any more dog with the ladies. But I asked you for that rock and I intend to git a look at it–I claim an interest in anything you’ve found.”

      “Oh, you do, eh?” returned Wunpost, now suddenly calm. “Well, let me tell you something, Mr. Rhodes. You wasn’t in my company when I found this chunk of rock, so you haven’t got any interest–see? But rather than have an argument in the presence of these ladies I’ll show you the quartz again.”

      He drew out the piece of rock and handed it to Rhodes who stared at it with sun-blinded eyes–then suddenly he whipped out a case and focussed 24a pair of magnifying glasses meanwhile mumbling to himself in broken accents.

      “Where’d you git that rock?” he asked, looking up, and Wunpost threw out his chest.

      “Right there at Black Point,” he answered carelessly, “you’ve been chasing along by it for years.”

      “I don’t believe it!” burst out Dusty gazing wildly about and mumbling still louder in the interim. “It ain’t possible–I’ve been right by there!”

      “But perhaps you never stopped,” suggested Wunpost sarcastically and handed the piece of rock to Mrs. Campbell.

      “Look in them holes,” he directed, “they’re full of fine gold.” And then he turned to Dusty.

      “No, Mr. Rhodes,” he said, “you ain’t treated me right or I’d let you in on this strike. But you went off and left me and therefore you’re out of it, and there ain’t any extensions to stake. It’s just a single big blow-out, an eroded volcanic cone, and I’ve covered it all with one claim.”

      “But you was traveling with me!” yelled Rhodes dancing about like a jay-bird, “you gimme half or I’ll have the law on ye!”

      “Hop to it!” invited Wunpost, “nothing would please me better than to air this whole case in court. And I’ll bet, when I’ve finished, they’ll take you out of court and hang you to the first tree they find. I’ll just tell them the facts, how you went off and left me and refused to either stop or leave me water; and then I’ll tell the judge how this little girl came down and saved my life with her mule. I’m not 25trying to play the hog–all I want is half the claim–but the other half goes to Billy. Here’s the paper, Wilhelmina; I may not know how to spell but you bet your life I know who’s my friend!”

      He handed over a piece of the paper bag which had been used to wrap up his lunch, and as Wilhelmina looked she beheld a copy of the notice that he had posted on his claim. No knight errant of old could have excelled him in gallantry, for he had given her a full half of his claim; but her eyes filled with tears, СКАЧАТЬ