“It’s now nearly two o’clock,” said Spouter. “And if we want to go any distance up the river it will take us until sundown to get back home.”
They turned back, and an hour or so later reached the point where they had parted from Jarley Bangs. Then they took a trail up the river and followed this until the sun, sinking over the western mountains, warned them that it was time for them to head for home.
“Say, I’ve got an idea,” announced Andy, when they came in sight of the ranch house. “Don’t let on to anybody about that doctored cake. If Hop Lung or anybody else mentions it, just act as if nothing unusual had happened. Say the lunch was as good as any we ever had.”
“That’s the idea!” returned his twin. “We’ll keep that Chink guessing.” And it may be added here that the boys kept their word, and Hop Lung never knew how his little joke had terminated, although he felt sure in his own mind that they had received the full benefit of the trick he had played.
The six boys were still some distance from the house when they saw a man come out on the veranda and wave his hand to them. At first they thought it might be Sam Rover. But then, of a sudden, Jack let out a yell.
“Boys, what do you know about this! Do you recognize that man?”
“It’s Hans Mueller!” ejaculated Fred.
“Uncle Hans!”
“Who would have thought he was coming to the ranch?”
“Hans Mueller!” murmured Andy. “I’ll be glad to see him. He’s as full of fun as a stray dog is of fleas!”