“My hunch was right,” Phyllis murmured in return. “But what is it? Don’t you know those three horses?”
“No, never saw ’em before,” he answered. “Let’s go to the bunkhouse and see if we can find Loo Wong.”
Cautiously they crossed the ranch yard and peered in the bunkhouse window. Phyllis involuntarily caught her breath at what they saw.
Loo Wong was seated against the wall and directly in front of him, across the table, his back to the window and door, sat another man, a dirty, unkempt individual. The latter had his feet propped on the table and a rifle aimed squarely at Loo Wong’s head. Loo Wong was glaring fruitlessly at his enemy. The situation was highly injurious to his oriental pride and this disgusting individual was keeping him from his duties in the kitchen. Wong was properly angry, but he had no desire to resort to violence and perhaps end up with a bullet in him from the other’s gun, so he submitted impassively.
“What can we do?” Phyllis demanded of Tom.
Neither of the two was armed, but it was imperative that they rescue Loo Wong and determine what, if anything, had happened to Gale and Valerie. Tom pulled his hat, the usual ten gallon size, farther down on his forehead and grinned maliciously.
“You stay here,” he directed in a tone that brooked no argument.
Around by the door was piled firewood. Loo Wong was negligent in carrying his wood into the kitchen and usually commissioned one of the cowboys to do it, but today no one had bothered. Tom chose a piece that would be admirable as a club and approached the door.
Not by a glance or a sound did Loo Wong betray himself when he saw the door slowly open and the face of the young boss appear. He kept his almond eyes fixed on the man opposite him, hands hidden in his enveloping sleeves, face perfectly impassive. What was going on in his mind it was impossible to tell.
Phyllis, watching at the window, wondered how in the world he managed to sit so perfectly still. She, herself, was almost dancing in impatience. She expected to see the outlaw whirl about and shoot at Tom any minute. It was impossible that he could be wholly ignorant of Tom’s presence. She held her breath as Tom shut the door behind him and approached catlike to his prey. She saw the man suddenly straighten in his chair and stand up. He turned and at the same time Tom hurled himself forward. The man fired his rifle and Phyllis instinctively ducked. It was fortunate that she did, for the bullet crashed through the glass over her head. When she cautiously raised her eyes to the window again, the outlaw was on the floor and Loo Wong was grinning at Tom.