"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 h.e.l.l 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 pa.s.sed over Wiley's bronzed face and then he became suddenly grim.

"b.u.m 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, s.n.a.t.c.hing 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.

CHAPTER XII

THE EXPERT

Like the way of an eagle in the air or the way of a man with a maid, the ways of a mining promoter must be shrouded in mystery and doubt. For when he wants to buy, no man will sell; and when he wants to sell, no man will buy; and when he will neither buy nor sell he is generally suspected of both. Wiley Holman had two fights and a charge of buckshot to prove that he wanted the Paymaster, and the fact that he had refused a half interest for nothing to prove that he did not want it. Also he had sold his tax-t.i.tle to the property for the sum of one hundred dollars. What then did it signify when he bought Virginia's despised stock for four hundred dollars, cash down? The man who could answer that could explain the way of a man with a maid.

Samuel J. Blount made the claim--and he had his pile to prove it--that he could think a little closer than most men. A little closer, and a little farther; but the Paymaster had been his downfall. He had played the long game to get possession of the mine, only to find he had bought a white elephant. Every day that he held it he had thrown good money after bad and he sent out a search party for Wiley Holman. Wiley had refused half the mine, but that only proved that half of the mine did not appeal to him--perhaps he would take it all. Samuel J. had been a student for a good many years in the school of predatory business and he had learned the rules of the game. He knew that the buyer always decried the goods and magnified each tiny defect, whereas the seller by as natural a process played up every virtue to the limit. But any man who inspected the goods was a potential buyer of the same, and Wiley had shown more than a pa.s.sing interest in the fate of the unlucky Paymaster.

And Wiley was a mining engineer.

They met in the gla.s.sed-in office of Blount in the ornate Bank of Vegas and for a half an hour or more Wiley sat tipped back in his chair while Blount talked of everything in general. It was a way he had, never to approach anything directly; but Wiley favored more direct methods.

"I understood," he remarked, bringing his chair down with a bang, "that you wanted to see me on business?"

"Yes, yes, Wiley," soothed Blount, "now please don't rush off--I wanted to see you about the Paymaster."

"Well, shoot," returned Wiley, "but don't ask my advice, unless you're ready to pay for it."

He tipped back his chair and sat waiting patiently while Blount unraveled his thoughts. He could think closer than most men, but not quicker, and the Paymaster was a tangled affair.

"I have been told," he began at last, "that you are still buying Paymaster stock. Or at least--well, a check of yours came through here endorsed by Death Valley Charley, and Virginia Huff. Oh, yes, yes; that's your business, of course; but here's the point I'm coming to; it won't do you any good to buy in that stock because I've got a majority of it right here in my vault. If you want to control the Paymaster, don't go to someone else--I'm the man you want to see."