The travelers were shown to some rooms and then told where they could wash up if they so desired.
“Supper will be ready in ten minutes,” announced Mrs. Powell. “So don’t take too much time in primping up,” she added, with a smile to the girls. “Remember, you are on a ranch now and you can dress exactly as you please.”
“I’m going to slip on a plain gingham right now,” declared Martha.
Their hand baggage had been brought along on the running-board of the touring car, and a little later one of the cowboys came in with their trunks, which had been brought over from the station in a wagon. In the meanwhile the crowd sat down to a somewhat elaborate supper which Hop Lung had prepared under Mrs. Powell’s supervision.
“He’s a very good cook,” the lady of the ranch confided to Mrs. Rover. “But he occasionally tries to turn out some very funny concoctions, so that I find it advisable to keep my eyes on him.”
“The cowboys are quite excited over the idea of having visitors here all summer,” said Songbird Powell during the course of the meal. “And two or three of them are especially excited over the fact that there are going to be so many girls and ladies. You see, the brothers who used to own these combined ranches weren’t married, and all they had around the houses were an Indian woman and a real old Dutch woman who was almost entirely deaf.
“Joe Jackson told me that one of the cowboys, a fellow named Hank Minno, was very bashful and had almost been on the point of giving up his job when he heard so many skirts were coming here.”
“Oh, dear, I think I’d like to make the acquaintance of Mr. Hank,” said Martha mischievously.
“Perhaps if he saw you coming he’d run away,” returned Mary.
“Oh, I think he’ll get over his bashfulness, and so will some of the others,” answered Songbird Powell. “And let me tell you one thing—when I first got here I thought the men were a pretty rough crowd, but the more I get to know them, the more I’m satisfied they’re all right at heart.”