IN TRUST
There was cursing and wailing and gnashing of teeth in Blackwater's
saloons that night, and some were for hanging Wunpost; but in the
morning, when they woke up and found Eells and Lapham gone, they
transferred their rage to them. A committee composed of the dummy
directors, who had allowed Eells to do what he would, discovered from
the books that the bank had been looted and that Eells was a fugitive
from justice. He had diverted the bank's funds to his own private uses,
leaving only his unsecured notes; and Lapham, the shrewd fox, had levied
blackmail on his chief by charging huge sums for legal service. And now
they were both gone and the Blackwater depositors had been left without
a cent.
It was galling to their pride to see Wunpost stalking about and
exhibiting his dream-restored wealth; but no one could say that he had
not warned them, and he was loser by two thousand dollars himself. But
even at that they considered it poor taste when he hung a piece of crepe
on the door. As for the God-given dream which he professed to have
received, there were those who questioned its authenticity; but whatever
his hunch was, it had saved him forty-odd thousand dollars, which he had
deposited with Wells Fargo and Company. They had never gone broke yet,
as far as he knew, and they had started as a Pony Express.
But there was one painful feature about his bank-wrecking triumph which
Wunpost had failed to anticipate, and as poor people who had lost their
all came and stood before the bank he hung his head and moved on. It was
all right for Old Whiskers and men of his stripe, whose profession was
predatory itself; but when the hard-rock miners and road-makers came in
the heady wine of triumph lost its bead. There are no palms of victory
without the dust of vain regrets to mar their gleaming leaves, and when
he saw Wilhelmina riding in from Jail Canyon he retreated to a doorway
and winced. This was to have been his high spot, his magnum of victory;
but somehow he sensed that no great joy would come from it, although of
course she had it coming to her. And Wilhelmina simply stared at the
sign "Bank Closed" and leaned against the door and cried.
That was too much for Wunpost, who had been handing out five dollars to
all of the workingmen who were broke, and he strode across the street
and approached her.
"What _you_ crying about?" he asked, and when she shook her head he
shuffled his feet and stood silent. "Come on up to the office," he said
at last, and she followed him to the bare little room. There a short
time before he had interceded to save her when she had all but signed
the contract with Eells; but now at one blow he had destroyed what was
built up and left her without a cent.
"What you crying about?" he repeated, as she sank down by the desk and
fixed him with her sad, reproachful eyes, "you ought to be tickled to
death."
"Because I've lost all my money," she answered dejectedly, "and we owe
the contractors for the road."
"Oh, that's all right," he said, "I'll get you some more money. But say,
didn't you do what I said? Why, I told you the last thing before I went
away to git that first payment money _out_!"
"You did not!" she denied, "you told me to draw a few hundred. And then
you turned around and deposited all you had, so I thought the bank must
be safe."
"What--safe with Judson Eells? Safe with Lapham behind the scenes? Say,
you'll never do at all. Have you heard the big news? Well, they've both
skipped to Mexico and the depositors won't get a cent."
"Then what about my contract?" she burst out tearfully, "I've sold him
my mine and now he's run away, so who's going to make the next payment?"
"They ain't nobody," grinned Wunpost, "and that's just the point--I told
you I'd come back with his scalp!"
"Yes, but what about _us_?" she clamored accusingly, "who's going
to pay for the road and all? Oh, I knew all the time that you'd never
forgive me, and now you've just ruined everything."
"Never asked me to forgive you," defended Wunpost stoutly, "but I don't
mind admitting I was sore. It's all right, of course, if you think you
can play the game--but I never thought you'd rob a _friend_!"
"But you dared me to!" she cried, "and didn't I offer it for almost
nothing, just to keep you from getting killed? And then, after I'd done
everything to get back your contract you didn't even say 'Thanks!'"
"No, sure not," he agreed, "what should I be thanking _you_ for?
Did I ask you to get back my grubstake? Not by a long shot I
didn't--what I wanted was my mine, and you turned around and sold it to
Eells. Well, where's your friend now, and his yeller dog, Lapham?
Skally-hooting across the desert for Mexico!"
"And isn't my contract any good? Won't the bank take it, or anybody? Oh,
I think you're just--just hateful!"
"You bet I am, kid!" he announced with a swagger, "that's my long suit,
savvy--hate! I never forgive an enemy and I never forget a friend, and
the man don't live that can _do_ me! I'll git him, if it takes a
thousand years!"
"Oh, there you go," she sighed, dusting her desk off petulantly, and
then she bowed her head in thought. "But I must say," she admitted, "you
have done what you said. But I thought you were just bragging at the
time."
"They _all_ did!" he beamed, "but I've showed 'em, by grab--they
ain't calling me a blow-hard now. These Blackwater stiffs that wanted to
run me out of town are coming around now to borrow five. They took up
with a crook, just because he boosted for their town, and now they're
left holding the sack. But if they'd listened to me they wouldn't be
left flat, because I told 'em I was after his hide. And say, you
should've seen him, when I came into his bank and shoved that big check
under his nose! He knowed what I was thinking and he never said: 'Boo!'
I showed him whether I knew how to write!"
He laid back and grinned broadly and Wilhelmina smiled, though a wistful
look had crept into her eyes.
"Then I suppose," she said, "you're always going to hate _me_,
because of course I did steal your mine. But now I'm glad it's gone,
because I wasn't happy a minute--do you think you can forgive me,
sometime?"
She glanced up appealingly but his brows had come down and he was
staring at her fiercely.
"Gone!" he roared, "your mine ain't gone! Ain't you ever read that
contract we framed up? Well, the mine reverts to you the first time a
payment isn't made or _if the buyer becomes a fugitive from
justice_! Yeh, my friend slipped that in along with the rest of it,
about death or an Act of God. Say, that's what you might call head
work!"
He jerked his chin and grinned admiringly but Wilhelmina did not
respond.
"Yes," she objected, "but how do I get the money to pay the men for
building the road? Because the twenty-five thousand dollars that I had
in the bank----"
"Get it?" cried Wunpost, "why you go up to your mine and dig out some
big chunks of gold, and then you send it out and sell it at the mint and
start a little bank of your own. But say, kid, you're all right--I like
you and all that--but something tells me you ain't cut out for business.
Now you'd better just turn this mine over to me----"
"Oh, _will_ you take it back?" she cried out impulsively, leaping
up and beginning to smile. "I've just _wanted_ to give it to you
but--well, of course I did steal it. And will you take me back for a
friend?"
"Well, I might," conceded Wunpost, rising slowly to his feet, and then
he shook his head. "But you're no business woman," he stated, "what I
was trying to say was----"
"Well, let's own it together!" she dimpled impatiently, and Wunpost
accepted the trust.
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