Wunpost. Coolidge Dane

ears. But as she listened, half in awe at their savage repartee, a third but quieter voice broke in, and she leapt into her dress and went dashing down the hill for her father had come back from the mine. He was deaf, and slightly crippled, as the result of an explosion when his drill had struck into a missed hole; but to lonely Wilhelmina he was the dearest of companions and she shouted into his ear by the hour. And, now that he had come home, the rival claimants were laying their case before him.

      Dusty Rhodes was excited, for he saw the chance of a fortune slipping away through his impotent fingers; but when Wunpost made answer he was even more excited, for the memory of his desertion rankled deep. All the ethics of the desert had been violated by Dusty Rhodes and a human life put in jeopardy, and as Wunpost dwelt upon his sufferings the old thirst for revenge rose up till it quite overmastered him. He denounced Dusty’s actions in no uncertain terms, holding him up to the scorn of mankind; but Dusty was just as vehement in his impassioned defense and in his claim to a half of the strike. There the ethics of the desert came in again; for it is a tradition in mining, not unsupported by sound law, that whoever is with a man at the time of a discovery is entitled to half the find. And the hold-over from his drinking bout of the evening before made Dusty unrestrained in his protests.

      The battle was at its height when Wilhelmina arrived and gave her father a hug and as the contestants beheld her, suddenly transformed to a young lady, they ceased their accusations and stood dumb. She was a child no longer, as she had appeared in the bib overalls, but a woman and with all a woman’s charm. Her eyes were very bright, her cheeks a ruddy pink, her curls a glorious halo for her head; and, standing beside her father, she took on a naïve dignity that left the two fire-eaters abashed. Cole Campbell himself was a man to be reckoned with–tall and straight as an arrow, with eyes that never wavered and decision in every line of his face. His gray hair stood up straight above a brow furrowed with care and his mustache bristled out aggressively, but as he glanced down at his daughter his stern eyes suddenly softened and he acknowledged her presence with a smile.

      “Are they telling you about the strike?” she called into his ear and he nodded and smiled again. “Let’s go up there!” she proposed but he shook his head and turned to the expectant contestants.

      “Well, gentleman,” he said, “as near as I can make out Mr. Rhodes has a certain right in the property. Mr. Calhoun was traveling with him and eating his grub, and I believe a court of law would decide in his favor even if he did go off and leave him in the lurch. But since my daughter picked him up and supplied him with a mule to go back and stake out the claim it might be that she also has an equity in the property, although that is for you gentlemen to decide.”

      “That’s decided already!” shouted Wunpost angrily, “the claim has been located in her name. She’s entitled to one-half and no burro-chasing prospector is going to beat her out of any part of it.”

      “But perhaps,” suggested Campbell with a quick glance at his daughter, “perhaps she would consent to take a third. And if you would do the same that would be giving up only one sixth and yet it would obviate a lawsuit.”

      “Yes, and I’ll sue him!” yammered Rhodes. “I’ll fight him to a whisper! I’ll engage the best lawyers in the country! And if I can’t git it no other way─”

      “That’ll do!” commanded Campbell raising his hand for peace, “there’s nothing to be gained by threats. This can all be arranged if you’ll just keep your heads and try to consider it impartially. I’m surprised, Mr. Rhodes, that you abandoned your pardner and left him without water on the desert. I’ve known you a long time and I’ve always respected you, but the fact would be against you in court. But on the other hand you can prove that you rode out this morning and made a diligent search, and that in itself would probably disprove abandonment, although I can’t say it counts for much with me. But you’ve asked my opinion, gentlemen, and there it is; and my advice is to settle this matter right now without taking the case into court.”

      “Well, I’ll give him half of my share,” broke out Wunpost fretfully, “but I promised Billy half and she is going to get half–I gave her my word, and that goes.”

      “No, I’ll give him half of mine,” cried Billy to her father, “because all I did was lend him Tellurium. But before I agree to it Mr. Rhodes has got to apologize, because he said he’d steal my mule!”

      “What’s that?” inquired her father holding his ear down closer, “I didn’t quite get that last.”

      “Why, Dusty Rhodes came up here to look for Mr. Calhoun, and when I told him that I had loaned him my mule he said Mr. Calhoun would steal him! And then he went up and told Mother all about it and said that Mr. Calhoun would do anything, and he said he’d probably take Tellurium to Wild Rose and trade him off to some squaw! And when I defended him he just whooped and laughed at me–and now he’s got to apologise!”

      She darted a hateful glance at the perspiring Dusty Rhodes, who was vainly trying to get Campbell’s ear; and at the end of her recital there was a look in Wunpost’s eye that spoke of reprisals to come. The fat was in the fire, as far as Rhodes was concerned, but he surprised them all by retracting. He apologized in haste, before Wunpost could make a reach for him, and then he recanted in detail, and when the tumult was over they had signed a joint agreement to give him one third of the mine.

      “All right, boys,” he yelled, thrusting his copy into his pocket and making a dash for his horse. “One third! It’s all right with me! But if we’d gone to the courts I’d got half, sure as shooting! ’Sall right, but just watch my dust!”

      CHAPTER IV

      THE TREE OF LIFE

      As the evening came on they walked out together, Wunpost and the worshipful Wilhelmina, and from the portals of her House of Dreams they looked out over the Sink where they had met but the evening before. Less than a single day had passed since their stars had crossed, and already they were talking of life and eternal friendship and of all the great dreams that youth loves. Each had given of what they had without counting the cost or considering what others might say; and now they walked together like reunited lovers, though their friendship was not twenty-four hours old. Yet in that single eventful day what a gamut they had run of the emotions which make up the soul’s life–of dangers boldly met, of mutual sacrifice and trust and the joys of vindication and success. They had staked all they had in the greatest game in life and, miracle of miracles, they had won. They had sought out each other’s souls in the murk of death and doubt and each had been proven pure gold; yet even youth, for all its madness, has its moments of clairvoyance and Billy sensed that her joy could not last. It was too great, too perfect, to endure forever, and as she gazed across the desert she sighed.

      “What’s the matter?” inquired Wunpost who, after a few hours’ sleep, had awakened in a most expansive mood; but she only sighed again and shook her head and gazed off across the quivering Sink. It was a hell-hole of torment to those who crossed its moods and yet in that waste she had found this man, who had changed her whole outlook on life. He had come up from the desert, a sun-bronzed young giant, volcanic in his loves and his hates; and on the morrow the desert would claim him again, for he was going back to his mine. And her father was going, too–Jail Canyon would be as empty as it had been for many a long year–and she who longed to live, to plunge into the swirl of life, would be left there alone, to dream.

      But what would dreams be after she had tasted the bitter-sweet of living and learned what it was that she missed; the tug of strong emotions, the hopes and fears and heartaches that are the fruits of the great Tree of Life? She wanted to pluck the fruits, be they bitter or sweet, and drain the world’s wine to the dregs; and then, if life went ill, she could return to her House with something about which to dream. But now she only sighed and Wunpost took her hand and drew her down beside him in the shade.

      “Don’t you worry about him kid?” he observed mysteriously, “I’ll take care of him, all right. And don’t you believe a word he said about me stealing horses and such. I’m a little rough sometimes when these jaspers try to rob me, but I never take advantage of a friend. I’m a Kentucky Calhoun, related to John Caldwell Calhoun, the great orator who debated with Webster;