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WUNPOST
WUNPOST
BY
DANE COOLIDGE
AUTHOR OF
LORENZO THE MAGNIFICENT, THE DESERT TRAIL, RIMROCK JONES, ETC.
GROSSET & DUNLAP
PUBLISHERS NEW YORK
Published by Arrangement with E. P. Dutton & Company
Copyright, 1920,
By E. P. DUTTON & COMPANY
All Rights Reserved
First printing ... April, 1920
Second printing ... May, 1920
Printed in the United States of America
CONTENTS CHAPTER PAGE I. The Death Valley Trail 1 II. The Gateway of Dreams 9 III. Dusty Rhodes Eats Dirt 20 IV. The Tree of Life 30 V. The Willie Meena 42 VI. Cinched 51 VII. More Dreams 63 VIII. The Babes in the Woods 73 IX. A New Deal 85 X. Short Sports 91 XI. The Stinging Lizard 102 XII. Back Home 114 XIII. With Hay-hooks 128 XIV. Poisoned Bait 135 XV. Wunpost Takes Them All On 144 XVI. Divine Providence 156 XVII. The Answer 168 XVIII. A Lesson 175 XIX. Tainted Money 183 XX. The War Eagle 190 XXI. A Lock of Hair 200 XXII. The Fear of the Hills 209 XXIII. The Return of the Blow-hard 217 XXIV. Something New 226 XXV. The Challenge 233 XXVI. The Fine Print 242 XXVII. A Come-Back 251 XXVIII. Wunpost Has a Bad Dream 259 XXIX. In Trust 268
WUNPOST
CHAPTER I
THE DEATH VALLEY TRAIL
The heat hung like smoke above Panamint Sink, it surged up against thehills like the waves of a great sea that boiled and seethed in the sun;and the mountains that walled it in gleamed and glistened like polishedjet where the light was struck back from their sides. They rose up insolid ramparts, unbelievably steep and combed clean by the sluicings ofcloudbursts; and where the black canyons had belched forth their floodsa broad wash spread out, writhing and twisting like a snake-track, untilat last it was lost in the Sink. For the Sink was the swallower-up ofall that came from the hills and whatever it sucked in it buried beneathits sands or poisoned on its alkali flats. Yet the Death Valley trailled across its level floor--thirty miles from Wild Rose Springs toBlackwater and its saloons--and while the heat danced and quivered therewas a dust in the north pass and a pack-train swung round the point.
It came on furiously, four burros with flat packs and an old man who rancursing behind; and as he passed down into the Sink there was anotherdust in the north and a lone man followed as furiously after him. He wasyoung and tall, a mountain of rude strength, and as he strode off downthe trail he brandished a piece of quartz and swung his hat in the air.But the pack-train kept on, a column of swirling dust, a blotch ofburro-gray in the heat; and as he emptied his canteen he hurled it tothe ground and took after his partner on the run. He could see thetwinkling feet, the heave of the white packs, the vindictive formdodging behind; and then his knees weakened, his throbbing brain seemedto burst and he fell down cursing in the trail. But the pack-train wenton like a tireless automaton that no human power could stay and when heraised his head it was a streamer of dust, a speck on the far horizon.
He rose up slowly and looked around--at the empty trail, the waterlessflats, the barren hills all about--and then he raised his fist, whichstill clutched the chunk of quartz, and shook it at the pillar of dust.His throat was dry and no words came, to carry the burden of his hate,but as he stumbled along his eyes were on the dust-cloud and he chokedout gusty oaths. A demoniac strength took possession of his limbs andonce more he broke into a run, the muttered oaths grew louder and gaveway to savage shouts and then to delirious babblings; and when he awokehe was groveling in a sand-wash and the sun had sunk in the west.
Once more he rose up and looked down the empty trail and across thewaterless flats; and then he raised his eyes to the eastern hills,burning red in the last rays of the sun. They were high, very high, withpines on their summits, and from the wash of a near canyon there lappedout a tongue of green, the promise of water beyond. But his strength hadleft him now and given place to a feverish weakness--the hills were faraway, and he could only sit and wait, and if help did not come he wouldperish. The solemn twilight turned to night, a star glowed in the east;and then, on the high point above the mouth of the canyon, there leaptup a brighter glow. It was a fire, and as he gazed he saw a form passingbefore it and feeding the ruddy blaze. He rose up all a-tremble, crusheddown a brittle salt-bush and touched it off with a match; and as theresinous wood flared up he snatched out a torch and carried the flame toanother bush. It was the signal of the lost, two fires side by side, andhe gave a hoarse cry when, from the point of the canyon, a second firepromised help. Then he sank down in the sand, feebly feeding his signalfire, until he was roused by galloping feet.
A half moon was in the sky, lighting the desert with ghostly radiance,and as he scrambled up to look he saw a boy on a white mule, riding inwith a canteen held out. Not a word was spoken but as he gurgled downthe water he rolled his eyes and gazed at his rescuer. The boy was slimand vigorous, stripped down to sandals and bib overalls; andconspicuously on his hip he carried a heavy pistol which he suddenlyhitched to the front.
"That's enough, now," he said, "you give me back that canteen." And whenthe man refused he snatched it from his lips and whipped out his readygun. "Don't you grab me," he warned, "or I'll fill you full of lead.You've had enough, I tell you!"
For a moment the man faced him as if crouching for a spring; and thenhis legs failed him and he sank to the ground, at which the boy droppeddown and stooped over him.
"Lie still," he said, "and I'll bathe your face--I was afraid you werecrazy with the heat."
"That's all right, kid," muttered the man, "you're right on the job.Say, gimme another drink."
"In a minute--well, just a little one! Now, lie down here in the sandand try to go to sleep." He moistened a big handkerchief and soppedwater on his head and over his heaving chest, and after a few drinks thebig frame relaxed and the man lay sleeping like a child. But in hisdreams he was still lost and running across the desert, he started andtwitched his arms; and then he began to mutter and fumble in the sanduntil at last he sat up with a jerk.
"Where's that rock?" he demanded, "by grab, she's half gold--I'm goingto take it and bash out his brains!" He rose to his knees and scrambledabout and the boy dropped his hand to his gun. "I'm going to _kill_him!" raved the man, "the danged old lizard-herder--he went off and leftme to die!"
He felt about in the dirt and grabbed up the chunk of quartz, which hehad lost in his last delirium.
"Look at _that_!" he exclaimed thrusting it out to the boy, "therichest danged quartz in the world! I've got a ledge of it, kid, enoughto make us both rich--and John Calhoun never forgets a friend! No, andhe never forgets an enemy--the son of a goat don't live that can put oneover on _me_! You just wait, Mister Dusty Rhodes!"
"Oh, was that Dusty Rhodes?" the boy piped up eagerly. "I was watchingfrom the point and I _thought_ it was his outfit--but I don't thinkI've ever seen you. Were you glad when you saw my fire?"
"You bet I was, kid," the man answered gravely, "I reckon you saved mylife. My name is John C. Calhoun."
He held out his hand and after a
moment's hesitation the boy reached outand took it.
"My name is Billy Campbell and we live in Jail Canyon. My mother will becoming down soon--that is, if she can catch our other mule."
"Glad to meet her," replied Calhoun still shaking his hand, "you're agood kid, Billy; I like you. And when your mother comes, if it'sagreeable to her, I'd like to take you along for my pardner. How wouldthat suit you, now--I've just made a big strike and I'll put you rightnext to the discovery."
"I--I'd like it," stammered the boy hastily drawing his hand away,"only--only I'm afraid my mother won't let me. You see the boys are allgone, and there's lots of work to do, and--but I do get awful lonely."
"I'll fix it!" announced Calhoun, pausing to take another drink, "andanything I've got, it's yours. You've saved my life, Billy, and I neverforget a kindness--any more than I forget an injury. Do you see thatrock?" he demanded fiercely. "I'm going to follow Dusty Rhodes to theend of the world and bash out his rabbit brains with it! I stopped up atBlack Point to look at that big dyke and what do you think he done? Hewent off and _left_ me and never looked back until he struck themBlackwater saloons! And the first chunk of rock that I knocked off ofthat ledge would assay a thousand dollars--gold! I ran after that dangedfool until I fell down like I was dead, and then I ran after him again,but he never so much as looked back--and all the time I was trying tomake him rich and put him next to my strike!"
He stopped and mopped his brow, then took another drink and laughed,deep down in his chest.
"We were supposed to be prospecting," he said at last. "I threw in withhim over at Furnace Creek and we never stopped hiking until we struckthe upper water at Wild Rose. How's that for prospecting--never lookedat a rock, except them he threw at his burros--and this morning, when Istopped, he got all bowed up and went off and left me flat. All I hadwas one canteen and the makings for a smoke, everything else was on thejacks, and the first rock I knocked off was rotten with gold--he'd beengoing past it for years! Well, I _stopped_! Nothing to it, when youfind a ledge like that you want to put up a notice. All my blanks werein the pack but I located it, all the same--with some rocks and acigarette paper. It'll hold, all right, according to law--it's got myname, and the date, and the name of the claim and how far I claim, bothways--but not a doggoned corner nor a pick-mark on it; and there it is,right by the trail! The first jasper that comes by is going to jump it,sure--don't you know, boy, I've got to get _back_. What's thechances for borrowing your mule?"
"What--Tellurium?" faltered the boy going over to the mule and rubbinghis nose regretfully, "he's--he's a pet; I'd rather not."
"Aw come on now, I'll pay you well--I'll stake you the claim next tomine. That ought to be worth lots of money."
"Nope," returned Billy, "here's a lunch I brought along. I guess I'll begoing home."
He untied a sack of food from the back of his saddle and mounted as ifto go, but the stranger took the mule by the bit.
"Now listen, kid," he said. "Do you know who I am? Well, I'm John C.Calhoun, the man that discovered the Wunpost Mine and put SouthernNevada on the map. I'm no crazy man; I'm a prospector, as good as thebest, if I am playing to a little hard luck. Yes sir, I located theWunpost and started that first big rush--they came pouring into Keno bythe thousands; but when I show 'em this rock there won't be anybodyleft--they'll come across Death Valley like a sandstorm. They'll comepouring down that wash like a cloudburst in July and the whole doggonedcountry will be located. Don't you want to be in on the strike? I'mgiving you a chance, and you'll never have another one like it. All Iask is this mule, and your canteen and the grub, and I'll tell you whatI'll do--I'll give you half my claim, and I'll bet it's worth millions,and I'll bring back your mule to boot!"
"Oh, will you?" exclaimed the boy and was scrambling swiftly down whenhe stopped with one hand on the horn. "Does--does it make any differenceif I'm a girl?" he asked with a break in his voice, and John C. Calhounstarted back. He looked again and in the desert moonlight the boyishface seemed to soften and change. Tears sprang into the dark eyes and asshe hung her head a curl fell across her breast.
"Hell--no!" he burst out hardly knowing what he said, "not as long as Iget the mule."
"Then write out that notice for Wilhelmina Campbell--I guess that's mylegal name."
"It's a right pretty name," conceded Calhoun as he mounted, "but somehowI kinder liked Billy."
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