of your misery--I'll _show_ you seven thousand,
savvy?"

He stuck out his head and gazed insolently into the man's face and then
drew out his wad of bills. They were badly sweated, but the numbers were
there--he peeled off seven bills and waved them airily, then laughed and
shoved them into his overalls.

"Tuh hell with you!" he burst out defiantly, consigning all Blackwater
to perdition with one grand, oratorical flourish. "You think you're so
smart," he went on tauntingly, "now come and trail me to my mine. If you
find it you can have it--it ain't even staked--but they ain't one of you
dares to follow me. I ain't afraid of Eells and his hired yaller dog,
and I ain't afraid of _you_! I'll take you _all_ on--old Eells
and all the rest of you--and I ain't afraid to show you the ore!"

He strode into the Express office and grabbed up a sack, which he cut
open with a slash of his knife; and then he reached in and took out a
great chunk that bulged and gleamed with gold.

"Am I four-flushing?" he inquired, and when no one answered he grunted
and tied up the hole. There was a silence, and the crowd began to filter
away--all but Lynch, who stood staring like an Indian. Then he too
turned away, his haggard eyes blinking fast, like a woman on the verge
of bitter tears.

CHAPTER XVI

DIVINE PROVIDENCE

The thundercaps were gleaming like silver in the heat when Wunpost rode
back to Jail Canyon; but he came on almost merrily, a sopping bath-towel
about his neck and his shirt pulled out, like a Chinaman's. These were
the last days of September when the clouds which had gathered for months
at last were giving down their rain; and the air, now it was humid,
seemed to open every pore and make the sweat run in rivulets. Wunpost
perspired, but he was happy, and as he neared the silent house he
whistled shrilly for his dog. Good Luck came out for a moment, looked
down at him reproachfully, and crawled back under the house, Yes, it was
hot in the canyon, for the ridge cut off the wind and the rimrock
reflected yet more heat, but Wunpost was happy through it all. He had
told Blackwater where it could go.

Not Eells and Lynch alone, but the citizens at large, collectively and
as individuals; and he had planted the seeds of envy and rage to rankle
in their hairy breasts. He had shown them his gold, to make them yearn
to find it, and his money to make them envy him his wealth; and then he
had left them to stew in their own j