“Yes; and look at the captain,” laughed Jack, pointing to the yellow face and flying queue of a Chinaman, which were at this moment projected from the back of the wagon.
“That’s the cook,” said Walt Phelps, “I guess he’s been getting supper ready as they came along.”
A loud cheer went up from the Rangers as their traveling dining–room came into sight.
“Hello, old Sawed Off, how’s chuck?” yelled one Ranger at the grinning Chinaman.
“Hey, there! What’s the news from the Chinese Republic?” shouted another.
“Me no Chinese ‘public. Me Chinese Democlat!” bawled the yellow man, waving an iron spoon and vanishing into the interior of his wheeled domain.
“They call him Sawed Off because his name is Tuo Long,” chuckled Captain Atkinson, when he had directed the driver of the cook wagon where to draw up and unharness his mules, “but he’s a mighty good cook—none better, in fact. He’s only got one failing, if you can call it such, and that is his dislike of the new Chinese Republic. If you want to get him excited you’ve only to start him on that.”
“I don’t much believe in getting cooks angry,” announced Walt Phelps, whose appetite was always a source of merriment with the Border Boys.