“I hope it is true,” Valerie said. “I’ve had the jitters ever since those fellows got away again.”
“Well, Val, I’ll give Pedro your regards when I see him,” Carol said as the girls rode up.
“You don’t have to bother,” Val said hastily.
“You better come along,” Janet laughed. “My sixth sense tells me we are due for some excitement.”
“No,” Val said. “I’m going to stay here and make fudge.”
“Now why didn’t you tell me that sooner?” Tom said aggrievedly. “Fudge is my weakness.”
“We’ll save you some,” Gale promised. “Adios!”
The girls and the Sheriff, with his men and Mr. Wilson and Tom, rode away in a cloud of dust. Valerie and Gale leaned on the corral fence, watching them out of sight. Then they turned and proceeded leisurely up to the house.
“I wish them luck,” Valerie declared. “And now for the fudge!”
The K Bar O possessed a very fine Chinese cook who did the cooking for the ranch house, as well as the bunkhouse, and he presided in solitary estate over the kitchen and its equipment. Loo Wong had very definite ideas about who was privileged to set foot in his domestic kingdom, and Mrs. Wilson was the only one whom he greeted with his wide smile. The “boss-lady” was welcome at any time, but woe to the others who tried to muss up his kitchen.