The Mystery in Arizona

moment, she was speechless. The others, too, were apparently stunned, because nobody said a word for quite a while.
    The cowboy was in full regalia, including beautifully decorated chaps and cuffs, boots, spurs, and a bright red-and-green bandanna. With the poise that comes from sincere friendliness and hospitality, he introduced himself.
    “I know you-all are the Bob-Whites, or most of ’em, anyways. I’m Lionel Stetson; no relation to the famous hatter, but, because of which, I go by the name of Ten Gallon—Tenny for short.”
    Honey, as usual, was the first to rise to the occasion. “Were awfully glad to meet you, Tenny,” she said with her lovely smile. “I’m Honey Wheeler. This is Di Lynch, Mr. Wilson’s niece, and you’re sitting between Trixie and Mart Belden.”
    Tenny bowed to each one in turn. “I sure am pleased to make yer acquaintance. To tell the truth, I snuck in through the side door for the very purpose. Heard tell that you boys and girls are a-goin’ for a moonlight ride this evenin’, so thought it might be a good idea to sort of wise you up to things.” Trixie found her voice then. “We girls aren’t going, Tenny,” she said bitterly. “We’ve got to wash a million dishes.”
    Tenny chuckled. “Wal, now, I think it’s all fer the best. Howie—he’s the boss foreman—he ain’t a-goin to like letting the hosses out at this time o’ night, anyhow. Right crotchety, Howie is. I s’pect he has liver trouble or somp’n. He ain’t a-goin’ to take to the idee of a bunch o’ kids wantin’ hosses ’cept at the regular times. Seems as though he jist had a mighty fine argyment ’bout same with Mr. Wilson. Mr. Wilson, he says, endin’ the argyment, ‘Them kids is goin’ to work. When they ain’t workin’ they is goin’ to ride, be it night or day.’
    “Howie, he don’t say nothin’ more, but he is good and sore. Jist thought I oughter warn you.” With that, Tenny arose and disappeared through the side door.
    Again there was a long silence.
    “Wow!” Trixie finally got out. “I never thought I’d be happy about missing a moonlight ride across an Arizona desert, but since Foreman Howie seems to be an ogre, I’d much rather wash dishes than face him at the moment.” She stood up. “He’s yours, all yours, Mart, and I’ll bet you get the bucking bronco to end all bucking broncos. Let’s go, girls!”

Sobs in the night • 8

    WITH A SHRUG, Mart wandered off to join the other boys at the far end of the dining room.
    Honey announced firmly, “I don’t care what happens—I’m going to finish eating. This rice dish is delicious and so is the salad.”
    “I’ve lost my appetite,” Di complained. “If the foreman doesn’t like us, we aren’t going to have any fun at all.”
    "We probably won’t do much riding,” Trixie agreed. “Even though this ranch belongs to your uncle, the foreman is always the boss of the horses. But anyway, that nice cowboy seems to be on our side. Maybe he’s the assistant foreman. If so, things won’t be so bad ”
    After dinner they stacked dishes on the huge trays and carried them out to the kitchen. It was the largest kitchen Trixie had ever seen, and she couldn’t help gasping with amazement. There were two long sinks, a giant freezer, a gigantic refrigerator, and an elephant-sized stove. The slim young Mexican woman who was working at one of the sinks seemed to be dwarfed by the appliances and fixtures.
    As Trixie gasped, she turned to smile at them. “I know just how you must feel,” she said. “You’ll have to get used to it. Everything in the Southwest is on a large scale. When you have gone for a horseback ride, you will get the feeling of expansiveness. I am used to this kitchen now, but it never fails to make me feel small.”
    She dried her small brown hands on her apron and moved slowly toward them. “I’m Maria Orlando, and you are Trixie and Honey, yes? The only Bob-Whites I have not yet met.”
    Her costume was exactly like Rosita’s except that her hair was completely covered by a gay bandanna, which she wore tied under her chin. She looked much more like a high-school senior than the mother of a six-year-old boy, and there was not the trace-of an accent in her voice.
    The girls introduced themselves and shook hands with Maria, who said, “I want you to meet my Pedro —Petey—very soon, but he is asleep in our cabin now. I do not permit him in the kitchen when I am preparing a meal. He is very