A TOUCH
The wrath of a man who is slow to anger cannot lightly be turned aside
and, though Virginia drooped her lashes, the son of Honest John brushed
past her without a word. She had followed him gratuitously to Death
Valley's cabin and seriously questioned his good faith; and then, to fan
the flames of his just resentment, she had suggested that he was telling
an untruth. He had told her--and it seemed impossible--that Blount had
offered him half the Paymaster, on shares; but the following morning,
without a word of warning, the Paymaster Mine shut down. The pumps
stopped abruptly, all the tools were removed, and as the foreman and
miners who had been their boarders rolled up their beds and prepared to
depart, the high-headed Virginia buried her face in her hands and
retired to her bedroom to weep. And then to cap it all that miserable
assayer sent in his belated report.
"Gold--a trace. Silver--blank. Copper--blank. Lead--blank. Zinc--blank."
The heavy white quartz which Wiley had made so much of was as barren as
the dirt in the street. It had absolutely no value and--oh, wretched
thought--he had offered to buy her stock out of charity! Out of the
bigness of his heart--and then she had insulted him and accused him of
robbing Death Valley Charley! In the light of this new day Death Valley
was a magnate, with his check for two hundred dollars, and Virginia and
her mother must either starve on in silence or accept the bounty of the
Holmans. It was maddening, unbelievable--and to think what he had
suffered from her, before he had finally gone off in a rage. But how
sarcastic he had been when she had accused him of robbing Charley, and
of standing in with Blount! He had said things then which no woman could
forgive; no, not even if she were in the wrong. He had led her on to
make unconsidered statements, smiling provokingly all the time; and
then, when she had doubted that Blount had offered him the mine, he had
said, "Well, ask him!" and shut the door in her face! And now, without
asking, the question had been answered, for Blount had closed down the
mine in despair and gone back to his bank in Vegas.
The Paymaster was dead, and Keno was dead; and their eight hundred
dollars was gone. All the profits from the miners which they had counted
upon so confidently had disappeared in a single day; and now her mother
would have to pawn her diamonds again in order to get out of town.
Virginia paced up and down, debating the situation and seeking some
possible escape, but every door was closed. She could not appeal to
Wiley, for she knew her stock was worthless, and her hold on his
sympathies was broken. He was a Yankee and cold, and his anger was
cold--the kind that will not burn itself out. When he had loved her it
was different; there was a spark of human kindness to which she could
always appeal; but now he was as cold and passionless as a statue; with
his jaws shut down like iron. She gave up and went out to see Charley.
Death Valley was celebrating his sudden rise to affluence by a resort to
the flowing bowl and when Virginia stepped in she found all three
phonographs running and a two-gallon demijohn on the table. Death Valley
himself was reposing in an armchair with one leg wrapped up in a white
bandage and as she stopped the grinding phonographs and made a grab for
the demijohn he held up two fingers reprovingly.
"I'm snake-bit," he croaked. "Don't take away my medicine. Do you want
your Uncle Charley to die?"
"Why, Charley!" she cried, "you know you aren't snake-bit! The
rattlesnakes are all holed up now."
"Yes--holed up," he nodded; "that's how I got snake-bit. It was fourteen
years ago, this month. Didn't you ever hear of my snake-mine--it was one
of the marvels of Arizona--a two-foot stratum of snakes. I used to hook
'em out as fast as I needed them and try out the oil to cure rheumatism;
but one day I dropped one and he bit me on the leg, and it's been bad
that same month ever since. Would you like to see the bite? There's the
pattern of a diamond-back just as plain as anything, so I know it must
have been a rattler."
He reached resolutely for the demijohn and took a hearty drink whereat
Virginia sat down with a sigh.
"I'll tell you something," went on Charley confidentially. "Do you know
why a snake shakes its tail? It's generating electricity to shoot in the
pisen, and the longer a rattlesnake rattles----"
"Oh, now, Charley," she begged, "can't you see I'm in trouble? Well,
stop drinking and listen to what I say. You can help me a lot, if you
will."
"Who--me?" demanded Charley, and then he roused himself up and motioned
for a dipper of water. "Well, all right," he said, "I hate to kill this
whiskey----" He drank in great gulps and made a wry face as he rose up
and looked around.
"Where's Heine?" he demanded. "Here Heine, Heine!"
"You drove him under the house," answered Virginia petulantly, "playing
all three phonographs at once. Really, it's awful, Charley, and you'd
better look out or mother will give you the bounce."
"Scolding women--talking women," mused Charley drunkenly. "Well; what do
you want me to do?"
"I'm _not_ scolding!" denied Virginia, and then as he leered at her
she gave way weakly to tears. "Well, I can't help it," she wailed, "she
scolds me all the time and--she simply drives me to it."
"They'll drive you crazy," murmured Charley philosophically. "There's
nothing to do but hide out. But I must save the rest of that whiskey for
the Colonel."
He reached for the demijohn and corked it stoutly, after which he turned
to Virginia.
"Do you want some money?" he asked more kindly, bringing forth his roll
as he spoke. "Well here, Virginny, there's one hundred dollars--it's
nothing to your Uncle Charley. No, I got plenty more; and I'm going up
the Ube-Hebes just as soon as I find my burros. They must be over to
Cottonwood--there's lots of sand over there and Jinny, she's hell for
rolling. No, take the money; I got it from Wiley Holman and he's got
plenty more."
He dropped it in her lap, but she jumped up hastily and put it back in
his hands.
"No, not that money," she said, "but listen to me, Charley; here's what
I want you to do. I've got some stock in the Paymaster Mine that Wiley
was trying to buy; but now--oh, you saw how he treated me yesterday--he
wouldn't take it, if he knew. But Charley, you take it; and the next
time you see him--well, try to get ten cents a share. We want to go
away, Charley; because the mine is closed down and----"
"Yes, yes, Virginny," spoke up Death Valley, soothingly, "I'll get you
the money, right away."
"But don't you tell him!" she warned in a panic, "because----"
"You ought to be ashamed," said Charley reprovingly and went out to hunt
up his burros. Virginia lingered about, looking off across the desert at
the road down which Wiley had sped, and at last she bowed her head.
Those last words of Charley's still rang in her ears and when, towards
evening, he started off down the road she watched him out of sight.
It was a long, dry road, this highway to Vegas, but twenty miles out, at
Government Wells, there was water, and a good place to camp. Charley
stopped there that night, and for three days more, until at last in the
distance he saw Wiley's white racer at the tip of a streamer of dust. He
went by like the wind but when he spied Charley he slowed down and
backed up to his camp.
"Hel-lo there, Old Timer," he hailed in surprise, "what are you doing,
away out here?"
"Oh, rambling around," responded Charley airily, waving his hand at the
world at large. "It's good for man to be alone, away from them scolding
women."
The shadow of a smile passed over Wiley's bronzed face and then he
became suddenly grim.
"Bum scripture, Charley," he said, nodding shortly, "but you may be
right, at that. What's the excitement around beautiful Keno?"
"I don't know," lied Charley. "Ain't been in town since you was there,
but she was sure booming, then. Say, I've got some stock in that
Paymaster Mine that I might let you have, for cash. I'm burnt out on the
town--they's too many people in it--I'm going back to the Ube-Hebes."
"Well, take me along, then," suggested Wiley, "and we'll bring back a
car-load of that gold. Maybe then I could buy your stock."
"No, you buy it now," went on Charley insistently. "I'm broke and I need
the money."
"Oh, you do, eh?" jested Wiley. "Still thinking about that wedding trip?
Well, I may need that money myself."
"Eh, heh, heh," laughed Charley, and drawing forth a package he began to
untie the strings. "Eh, heh; yes, that's right; I've been watching you
young folks for some time. But I'll sell you this stock of mine cheap."
He unrolled a cloth and flashed the certificates hopefully, but Wiley
did not even look at them.
"Nope," he said, "no Paymaster for me. I wouldn't accent that stock as a
gift."
"But it's rich!" protested Charley, his eyes beginning to get wild.
"It's full of silver and gold. I can feel the electricity when I walk
over the property--there's millions and millions, right there!"
"Oh, there is, eh?" observed Wiley, and, snatching away the
certificates, he ran them rapidly over. "Where'd you get these?" he
asked, and Death Valley blinked, though he looked him straight in the
eyes.
"Why, I--bought 'em," he faltered, "and--the Colonel gave me some.
And----"
"How much do you want for them?" snapped Wiley, and Charley blinked
again.
"Ten cents a share," he answered, and Wiley's stern face hardened.
"You take these back," he said, "and tell her I don't want 'em."
"Who--Virginny?" inquired Death Valley, and then he kicked his leg and
looked around for Heine.
"Now, here," spoke up Wiley, "don't go to slapping that dog. How much do
you want for the bunch?"
"Four hundred dollars!" barked Charley, and stood watchful and expectant
as Wiley sat deep in thought.
"All right," he said, and as he wrote out the check Death Valley
chuckled and leered at Heine.