“Girls,” Babs said, “it is growing dusky in here, which reminds me that the sun will soon set and that the beds are not made and that I, for one, am ravenously hungry.”
“Lead us to your culinary department, Peyton, and we will spread out our picnic lunch. Good, here comes the cowboy, Trujillo. Now Betsy, you begin solving the mystery, but don’t let the poor lad know that you are trying to unravel him,” Virginia cautioned, as they entered the more modern kitchen which, since it faced toward the west, was bright with the late afternoon sunshine. At one end was the great black range, which had been the pride of the good housekeeper, who so recently lived there.
Across the other end was the long dining table and near the windows were plain wooden rockers which Mrs. Dartley had made comfortable with soft cushioned seats, covered with bright colored materials, for this had been the home part of the house for her little family.
The solemn grandeur of the other rooms had depressed the rancher’s wife and she once confided to Virginia that the life-sized portraits hanging around the walls gave her the shivers. “Those painted folks all have beady black eyes and they watch every move I make,” she had said. “It doesn’t matter which part of the room I walk to, their eyes turn and keep a spyin’ at me. It’s too spooky a place to live in. I don’t step a foot in that room, month in and month out, if I can help myself.”
It was partly because of this uncanny closed room that Mrs. Dartley had been so eager to have her husband sell the Three Cross Ranch that she might return to the Middle-West and to the farmer folk whose pleasant houses were all furnished in the simple way that she liked.
During the evening meal, Peyton asked many questions of the girls concerning their year at school. Margaret, Virginia and Babs chattered of one thing and another. Suddenly Virg, wondered why the usually loquacious Betsy Clossen was keeping so still. She looked across the table and saw that the would-be young detective seemed to be deep in thought. Now and then she would glance at the Mexican cowboy who sat opposite. Since he did not understand the English language, the girls did not attempt to converse with him, although Peyton frequently addressed Trujillo in Spanish.
Virg smiled to herself, for she guessed, and rightly, that Betsy was trying to imagine a mystery about the really good-looking, dark young stranger—that she might solve it.
CHAPTER XVI
A MYSTERIOUS ROOM
The boys went down to the corral after supper and the girls being left alone decided to see what the long darkened front room looked like at night.
Virg, in the lead, was carrying a burning candle.