Wunpost

“Aw, now, Wilhelmina,” he pleaded, then fell into a sulky silence as she tossed back her curls and spoke.

“Don’t you think,” she burst out, “that I like to work for my father? Well, I do; and I ought to do more! And I’d like to know where Hungry Bill comes in─”

“He don’t!” stated Wunpost, who was beginning to see red; but she rushed on, undeterred.

“─because you don’t need to think I’m a squaw. We may be poor, but you can’t buy me– and my father doesn’t need to keep watch of me. I guess I’ve been brought up to act like a lady, if I did–oh, I just hate the sight of you!”

She ended a little weakly, for the memory of that kiss made her blush and hang her head; but Wunpost had been trained to match hate with a hate, and he reared up his mane and stepped back.

“Aw, who said you were a squaw?” he retorted arrogantly. “But you might as well be, by grab! Only old Hungry Bill takes his girls down to town, but you never git to go nowhere.”

“I don’t want to go!” she cried in a passion. “I want to stay here and help all I can. But all you talk about now is how much money you’ve got, as if nothing else in the world ever counts.”

“Well, forget it!” grumbled Wunpost, swinging up on his mule and starting off up the canyon. “I’ll go off and give you a rest. And maybe them girls in Los Angeles won’t treat me quite so high-headed.”

“I don’t care,” began Wilhelmina–but she did, and so she stopped. And then the old plan, conceived æons ago, rose up and took possession of her mind. She followed along behind him, and already in her thoughts she was the owner of the Sockdolager Mine. She held it for herself, without recognizing his claims or any that Eells might bring; and while she dug out the gold and shoveled it into sacks they stood by and looked on enviously. But when her mules were loaded she took the gold away and gave it to her father for his road.

“I don’t care!” she repeated, and she meant it.

CHAPTER XXVI

THE FINE PRINT

A week passed by, and Wilhelmina rode into Blackwater and mailed a letter to the County Recorder; and a week later she came back, to receive a letter in return and to buy at the store with gold. And then the big news broke–the Sockdolager had been found–and there was a stampede that went clear to the peaks. Blackwater was abandoned, and swarming again the next day with the second wave of stampeders; and the day after that John C. Calhoun piled out of the stage and demanded to see Wilhelmina. He hardly knew her at first, for she had bought a new dress; and she sat in an office up over the bank, talking business with several important persons.

“What’s this I hear?” he demanded truculently, when he had cleared the room of all callers. “I hear you’ve located my mine.”

“Yes, I have,” she admitted. “But of course it wasn’t yours–and besides, you said I could have it.”

“Where is it at?” he snapped, sweating and fighting back his hair, and when she told him he groaned.

“How’d you find it?” he asked, and then he groaned again, for she had followed his own fresh trail.

“Stung!” he moaned and sank down in a chair, at which she dimpled prettily.

“Yes,” she said, “but it was all for your own good. And anyway, you dared me to do it.”

“Yes, I did,” he assented with a weary sigh. “Well, what do you want me to do?”

“Why, nothing,” she returned. “I’m going to sell out to Mr. Eells and─”

“To Eells!” he yelled. “Well, by the holy, jumping Judas–how much is he going to give you?”

“Forty thousand dollars and─”

“Forty thousand! Say, she’s worth forty million! For cripes’ sake–have you signed the papers?”

“No, I haven’t, but─”

“Well, then, don’t! Don’t you do it–don’t you dare to sign anything, not even a receipt for your money! Oh, my Lord, I just got here in time!”

“But I’m going to,” ended Wilhelmina, and then for the first time he noticed the look in her eye. It was as cold and steely as a gun-fighter’s.

“Why–what’s the matter?” he clamored. “You ain’t sore at me, are you? But even if you are, don’t sign any papers until I tell you about that mine. How much ore have you got in sight?”

“Why, just that one vein, where it goes under the black rock─”

“They’s two others!” he panted, “that I covered up on purpose. Oh, my Lord, this is simply awful.”

“Two others!” echoed Wilhelmina, and then she sat dumb while a scared look crept into her eyes. “Well, I didn’t know that,” she went on at last, “and of course we lost everything, that other time. So when Mr. Eells offered me forty thousand cash and agreed to release you from that grubstake contract─”

“You throwed the whole thing away, eh?”

He had turned sullen now and petulantly discontented and the fire flashed back into her eyes.

“Well, is that all the thanks I get? I thought you wanted that contract!”

“I did!” he complained, “but if you’d left me alone I’d’ve got it away from him for nothing. But forty thousand dollars! Say, what’s your doggoned hurry–have you got to sell out the first day?”

“No, but that time before, when he tried to buy us out I held on until I didn’t get anything. And father has been waiting for his road so long─”

“Oh, that road again!” snarled Wunpost. “Is that all you think about? You’ve thrown away millions of dollars!”

“Well, anyway, I’ve got the road!” she answered with spirit, “and that’s more than I did before. If I’d followed my own judgment instead of taking your advice─”

“Your judgment!” he mocked; “say, shake yourself, kid–you’ve pulled the biggest bonehead of a life-time.”

“I don’t care!” she answered, “I’ll get forty thousand dollars. And if Father builds his road our mine will be worth millions, so why shouldn’t I let this one go?”

“Oh, boys!” sighed Wunpost and slumped down in his chair, then roused up with a wild look in his eyes. “You haven’t signed up, have you?” he demanded again. “Well, thank God, then, I got here in time!”

“No you didn’t,” she said, “because I told him I’d do it and we’ve already drawn up the papers. At first he wouldn’t hear to it, to release you from your contract; but when I told him I wouldn’t sell without it, he and Lapham had a conference and they’re downstairs now having it copied. There are to be three copies, one for each of us and one for you, because of course you’re an interested party. And I thought, if you were released, you could go out and find another mine and─”

“Another one!” raved Wunpost. “Say, you must think it’s easy! I’ll never find another one in a life-time. Another Sockdolager? I could sell that mine tomorrow for a million dollars, cash; it’s got a hundred thousand dollars in sight!”

“Well, that’s what you told me when we had the Willie Meena, and now already they say it’s worked out–and I know Mr. Eells isn’t rich. He had to send to Los Angeles to get the money for this first payment─”

“What, have you accepted his money?” shouted Wunpost accusingly, and Wilhelmina rose to her feet.

“Mr. Calhoun,” she said, “I’ll have you to understand that I own this mine myself. And I’m not going to sit here and be yelled at like a Mexican–not by you or anybody else.”

“Oh, it’s yours, is it?” he jeered. “Well, excuse me for living; but who came across it in the first place?”

“Well, you did,” she conceded, “and if you hadn’t been always bragging about it you might be owning it yet. But you were always showing off, and making fun of my father, and saying we were all such fools– so I thought I’d just show you, and it’s no use talking now, because I’ve agreed to sell it to Eells.”

“That’s all right, kid,” he nodded, after a long minute of silence. “I reckon I had it coming to me. But, by grab, I never thought that little Billy Campbell would throw the hooks into me like this.”

“No, and I wouldn’t,” she returned, “only you just treated us like dirt. I’m glad, and I’d do it again.”

“Well, I’ve learned one thing,” he muttered gloomily; “I’ll never trust a woman again.”

“Now isn’t that just like a man!” exclaimed Wilhelmina indignantly. “You know you never trusted anybody. I asked you one time where you got all that ore and you looked smart and said: ‘That’s a question. If I’d tell you, you’d know the answer.’ Those were the very words you said. And now you’ll never trust a woman again!”

She laughed, and Wunpost rose slowly to his feet, but he did not get out of the door.

“What’s the matter?” she taunted; “did ‘them Los Angeles girls’ fool you, too? Or am I the only one?”

“You’re the only one,” he answered ambiguously, and stood looking at her queerly.

“Well, cheer up!” she dimpled, for her mood was gay. “You’ll find another one, somewhere.”

“No I won’t,” he said; “you’re the only one, Billy. But I never looked for nothing like this.”

“Well, you told me to get onto myself and learn to play the game, and finally I took you at your word.”

“Yes,” he agreed, “I can’t say a word. But these Blackwater stiffs will sure throw it into me when they find I’ve been trimmed by a girl. The best thing I can do is to drift.”

He put his hand on the door-knob, but she knew he would not go, and he turned back with a sheepish grin.

“What do the folks think about this?” he inquired casually, and Wilhelmina made a face.

“They think I’m just awful!” she confessed. “But I don’t care–I’m tired of being poor.”

“Don’t reckon there’ll be another cloudburst, do you, about the time you get your road built?”

She grew sober at that and then her eyes gleamed.

“I don’t care!” she repeated, “and besides, I didn’t steal this. You told me I could have it, you know.”

“Too fine a point for me,” he decided. “We’ll just see, after you build your new road.”

“Well, I’m going to build it,” she stated, “because he’ll worry himself to death. And I don’t care what happens to me, as long as he gets his road.”

“Well, I’ve seen ’em that wanted all kinds of things, but you’re the first one that wanted a road. And so you’re going to sign this contract if it loses you a million dollars?”

“Yes, I am,” she said. “We’ve drawn it all up and I’ve given him my word, so there’s nothing else to do.”

“Yes, there is,” he replied. “Tell him you’ve changed your mind and want a million dollars. Tell him that I’ve come back and don’t want that grubstake contract and that you’ll take it all in cash.”

“No,” she frowned, “now there’s no use arguing, because I’ve fully made up my mind. And if─” She paused and listened as steps came down the hall. “They’re coming,” she said and smiled.

There was a rapid patter of feet and Lapham rapped and came in, bearing some papers and his notary’s stamp; but when he saw Wunpost he stopped and stood aghast, while his stamp fell to the floor with a bang.

“Why, why–oh, excuse me!” he broke out, turning to dart through the door; but the mighty bulk of Eells had blocked his way and now it forced him back.

“Why–what’s this?” demanded Eells, and then he saw Wunpost and his lip dropped down and came up. “Oh, excuse me, Miss Campbell,” he burst out hastily, “we’ll come back–didn’t know you were occupied.” He started to back out and Wunpost and Wilhelmina exchanged glances, for they had never seen him flustered before. But now he was stampeded, though why they could not guess, for he had never feared Wunpost before.

“Oh, don’t go!” cried Wilhelmina; “we were just waiting for you to come. Please come back–I want to have it over with.”

She flew to the door and held it open and Eells and his lawyer filed in.

“Don’t let me disturb you,” said Wunpost grimly and stood with his back to the wall. There was something in the wind, he could guess that already, and he waited to see what would happen. But if Eells had been startled his nerve had returned, and he proceeded with ponderous dignity.

“This won’t take but a moment,” he observed to Wilhelmina as he spread the papers before her. “Here are the three copies of our agreement and”–he shook out his fountain pen–“you put your name right there.”

“No you don’t!” spoke up Wunpost, breaking in on the spell, “don’t sign nothing that you haven’t read.”

He fixed her with his eyes and as Wilhelmina read his thoughts she laid down the waiting pen. Eells drew up his lip, Lapham shuffled uneasily, and Wilhelmina took up the contract. She glanced through it page by page, dipping in here and there and then turning impatiently ahead; and as she struggled with its verbiage the sweat burst from Eells’ face and ran unnoticed down his neck.

“All right,” she smiled, and was picking up the pen when she paused and turned hurriedly back.

“Anything the matter?” croaked Lapham, clearing his throat and hovering over her, and Wilhelmina looked up helplessly.

“Yes; please show me the place where it tells about that contract–the one for Mr. Calhoun.”

“Oh–yes,” stammered Lapham, and then he hesitated and glanced across at Eells. “Why–er─” he began, running rapidly through the sheets, and John C. Calhoun strode forward.

“What did I tell you?” he said, nodding significantly at Wilhelmina and grabbing up the damning papers. “That’ll do for you,” he said to Lapham. “We’ll have you in the Pen for this.” And when Lapham and Eells both rushed at him at once he struck them aside with one hand. For they did not come on fighting, but all in a tremble, clutching wildly to get back the papers.

“I knowed it,” announced Wunpost; “that clause isn’t there. This is one time when we read the fine print.”

CHAPTER XXVII

A COME-BACK

It takes an iron nerve to come back for more punishment right after a solar plexus blow, but Judson Eells had that kind. Phillip F. Lapham went to pieces and began to beg, but Eells reached out for the papers.

“Just give me that contract,” he suggested amiably; “there must be some mistake.”

“Yes, you bet there’s a mistake,” came back Wunpost triumphantly, “but we’ll show these papers to the judge. This ain’t the first time you’ve tried to put one over, but you robbed us once before.”

He turned to Wilhelmina, whose eyes were dark with rage, and she nodded and stood close beside him.

“Yes,” she said, “and I was selling it for almost nothing, just to get that miserable grubstake. Oh, I think you just ought to be–hung!”

She took one of the contracts and ran through it to make sure, and Eells coughed and sent Lapham away.

“Now let’s sit down,” he said, “and talk this matter over. And if, through an oversight, the clause has been left out perhaps we can make other arrangements.”

“Nothing doing,” declared Wunpost. “You’re a crook and you know it; and I don’t want that grubstake contract, nohow. And there’s a feller in town that I know for a certainty will give five hundred thousand dollars, cash.”

“Oh, no!” protested Eells, but his glance was uneasy and he smiled when Wilhelmina spoke up.

“Well, I do!” she said. “I want that grubstake contract cancelled. But forty thousand dollars─”

“I’ll give you more,” put in Eells, suddenly coming to life. “I’ll bond your mine for a hundred thousand dollars if you’ll give me a little more time.”

“And will you bring out that grubstake contract and have it cancelled in my presence?” demanded Wilhelmina peremptorily, and Eells bowed before the storm.

“Yes, I’ll do that,” he agreed, “although a hundred thousand dollars─”

“There’s a hundred thousand in sight!” broke in Wunpost intolerantly. “But what do you want to trade with a crook like that for?” he demanded of Wilhelmina, “when I can get you a certified check? Is he the only man in town that can buy your mine? I’ll bet you I can find you twenty. And if you don’t get an offer of five hundred thousand cash─”

“I’ll make it two hundred,” interposed Judson Eells hastily, “and surrender the cancelled grubstake!”

“I don’t want the danged grubstake!” burst out Wunpost impatiently. “What good is it now, when my claim has been jumped and I ain’t got a prospect in sight? No, it ain’t worth a cent, now that the Sockdolager is located, and I don’t want it counted for anything.”

“But I want it,” objected Wilhelmina, “and I’m willing to let it count. But if others will pay me more─”

“I’ll bond your mine,” began Judson Eells desperately, “for four hundred thousand dollars─”

“Don’t you do it,” came back Wunpost, “because under a bond and lease he can take possession of your property. And if he ever gits a-hold of it─”

“I’m talking to Miss Campbell,” blustered Eells indignantly, but his guns were spiked again. Wilhelmina knew his record too well, for he had driven her from the Willie Meena, and yet she lingered on.

“Suppose,” she said at last, “I should sell my mine elsewhere; how much would you take for that grubstake?”

“I wouldn’t sell it at any price!” returned Judson Eells instantly. “I’m convinced that he has other claims.”

“Well, then, how much will you give me in cash for my mine and throw the grubstake in?”

“I’ll give you four hundred thousand dollars in four yearly payments─”

“Don’t you do it,” butted in Wunpost, but Wilhelmina turned upon him and he read the decision in her eye.

“I’ll take it,” she said. “But this time the papers will be drawn up by a lawyer that I will hire. And I must say, Mr. Eells, I think the way you changed those papers─”

“It ought to put him in the Pen,” observed Wunpost vindictively. “You’re easy–and you’re compounding a felony.”

“Well, I don’t know what that is,” answered Wilhelmina recklessly, “but anyway, I’ll get that grubstake.”

“Well, I know one thing,” stated Wunpost. “I’m going to keep these papers until he makes the last of those payments. Because if he don’t dig that gold out inside of four years it won’t be because he don’t try.”

“No, you give them to me,” she demanded, pouting, and Wunpost handed them over. This was a new one on him–Wilhelmina turning pouty! But the big fight was over, and when Eells went away she dismissed John C. Calhoun and cried.

It takes time to draw up an ironclad contract that will hold a man as slippery as Eells, but two outside lawyers who had come in with the rush did their best to make it air-tight. And even after that Wunpost took it to Los Angeles to show a lawyer who was his friend. When it came back from the friend there was a proviso against everything, including death and acts of God. But Judson Eells signed it and made a first payment of twenty-five thousand dollars down, after which John C. Calhoun suddenly dropped out of sight before Wilhelmina could thank him. She heard of him later as being in Los Angeles, and then he came back through Blackwater; but before she could see him he was gone again, on some mysterious errand into the hills. Then she returned to the ranch and missed him again, for he went by without making a stop. A month had gone by before she met him on the street, and then she knew he was avoiding her.

“Why, good morning, Miss Campbell,” he exclaimed, bowing gallantly; “how’s the mine and every little thing? You’re looking fine, there’s nothing to it; but say, I’ve got to be going!”

He started to rush on, but Wilhelmina stopped him and looked him reproachfully in the eye.

“Where have you been all the time?” she chided. “I’ve got something I want to give you.”

“Well, keep it,” he said, “and I’ll drop in and get it. See you later.” And he started to go.

“No, wait!” she implored, tagging resolutely after him, and Wunpost halted reluctantly. “Now I know you’re mad at me,” she charged; “that’s the first time you ever called me Miss Campbell.”

“Is that so?” he replied. “Well, it must have been the clothes. When you wore overalls you was Billy, and that white dress made it Wilhelmina; and now it’s Miss Campbell, and then some.”

He stopped and mopped the sweat from his perspiring brow, but he refused to meet her eye.

“Won’t you come up to my office?” she asked very meekly. “I’ve got something important to tell you.”

“Is that feller Eells trying to beat you out of your money?” he demanded with sudden heat, but she declined to discuss business on the street. In her office she sat him down and closed the door behind them, then drew out a contract from her desk.

“Here’s that grubstake agreement, all cancelled,” she said, and he took it and grunted ungraciously.

“All right,” he rumbled; “now what’s the important business? Is the bank going broke, or what?”

“Why, no,” she answered, beginning to blink back the tears, “what makes you talk like that?”

“Well, I was just into Los Angeles, trying to round up that bank examiner, and I thought maybe he’d made his report.”

“What–really?” she cried, “don’t you think the bank is safe? Why, all my money is there!”

“How much you got?” he asked, and when she told him he snorted. “Twenty-five thousand, eh?” he said. “How’d he pay you–with a check? Well, he might not have had a cent. A man that will rob a girl will rob his depositors–you’d better draw out a few hundred.”

She rose up in alarm, but something in his smile made her sit down and eye him accusingly.

“I know what you’re doing,” she said at last; “you’re trying to break his bank. You always said you would.”

“Oh, that stuff!” he jeered, “that was nothing but hot air. I’m a blow-hard–everybody knows that.”

She looked at him again, and her face became very grave, for she knew what was gnawing at his heart. And she was far from being convinced.

“You didn’t thank me,” she said, “for returning your grubstake. Does that mean you really don’t care? Or are you just mad because I took away your mine? Of course I know you are.”

“Sure, I’m mad,” he admitted. “Wouldn’t you be mad? Well, why should I thank you for this? You take away my mine, that was worth millions of dollars, and gimme back a piece of paper.”

He slapped the contract against his leg and thrust it roughly into his shirt, at which Wilhelmina burst into tears.

“I–I’m sorry I stole it,” she confessed between sobs, “and now Father and everybody is against me. But I did it for you–so you wouldn’t get killed–and so Father could have his road. And now he won’t take it, because the money isn’t ours. He says I’m to return it to you.”

“Well, you tell your old man,” burst out Wunpost brutally, “that he’s crazy and I won’t touch a cent. I guess I know how to get my rights without any help from him.”

“Why, what do you mean?” she queried tremulously, but he shut his mouth down grimly.

“Never mind,” he said, “you just hold your breath, and listen for something to drop. I ain’t through, by no manner of means.”

“Oh, you’re going to fight Eells!” she cried out reproachfully. “I just know something dreadful will happen.”

“You bet your life it will–but not to me. I’m after that old boy’s hide.”

“And won’t you take the money?” she asked regretfully, and when he shook his head she wept. It was not easy weeping, for Wilhelmina was not the kind that practises before a mirror, and the agony of it touched his heart.

“Aw, say, kid,” he protested, “don’t take on like that–the world hasn’t come to an end. You ain’t cut out for this rough stuff, even if you did steal me blind, but I’m not so sore as all that. You tell your old man that I’ll accept ten thousand dollars if he’ll let me rebuild that road–because ever since it washed out I’ve felt conscience-stricken as hell over starting that cloudburst down his canyon.”

He rose up gaily, but she refused to be comforted until he laid his big hand on her head, and then she sprang up and threw both arms around his neck and made him give her a kiss. But she did not ask him to forgive her.

CHAPTER XXVIII

WUNPOST HAS A BAD DREAM

It is dangerous to start rumors against even the soundest of banks, because our present-day finance is no more than a house of cards built precariously on Public Confidence. No bank can pay interest, or even do business, if it keeps all its money in the vaults; and yet in times of panic, if a run ever starts, every depositor comes clamoring for his money. Public confidence is shaken–and the house of cards falls, carrying with it the fortunes of all. The depositors lose their money, the bankers lose their money; and thousands of other people in nowise connected with it are ruined by the failure of one bank. Hence the committee of Blackwater citizens, with blood in their eye, which called on John C. Calhoun.