The Mystery in Arizona

with laughter. “That would be a dead giveaway. All I know about roping and bulldogging and bronc-breaking I got out of books and from watching real cowboys at work.”
    “But you ride very well,” Trixie said. “Honey and Di and the boys told me that you ride as well as Regan.”
    “Who’s Regan?” Tenny asked curiously.
    “He’s the Wheelers’ groom,” Trixie explained. “He’s just wonderful to all of us boys and girls, although I know we drive him crazy lots of times. I mean, when we’re in a hurry, we’re apt to neglect the tack and not groom the horses properly. But even though Regan’s hair is as red as Jim’s, he hardly ever gets really and truly mad at us.”
    “He must be a redheaded angel,” said Tenny with a laugh. “And I guess you could say that Howie is an angel, too. Most of the dudes try his patience sorely, but he seldom gets really and truly mad. Not for long, anyway.”
    “You made him sound like an ogre the other night,” Trixie said. “I’m glad to hear he’s sort of like Regan. His bark is a lot worse than his bite, I guess.” Tenny nodded. “As a matter of fact, I owe this job to Howie. He knows I’m not a real cowboy, and he could have refused to hire me, even though Mr. Wilson asked him to take me on. Lucky for me, he really did need somebody to give riding lessons to beginners, and he thought I would fit the bill.”
    “Where did you learn to ride so well?” Trixie asked. “Were you brought up on a ranch out here?” He shook his head. “No. My home is in the East, too. My father loved to ride and always kept a couple of saddle horses, and I had a pony when I was a kid. I can’t remember a time when I didn’t know how to ride.”
    Trixie said nothing, but she couldn’t help thinking, “People who own horses and ponies in the East are usually very rich. I wonder why Tenny has to support himself while he’s working for his Ph.D.”
    As though he had been reading her mind, Tenny said, “When I was your age, I suffered from asthma and was sent out here to school. I liked it so much I decided to stay on and go to the University. Dad wanted me to go to Harvard, so we agreed to disagree. I won a scholarship and managed to work my way through without any help from home.”
    “That’s what Brian plans to do,” Trixie said. “It costs a lot of money to send a boy through medical school, Dad says. More than he can afford, anyway. There are four of us, you see. Moms and Dad want us all to go through college, but we’ll have to help with our expenses.”
    “It’s a good idea,” Tenny said, “even if there’s plenty of money in the family. Dad would be perfectly willing to help me out now, but he hasn’t a cent to spare. Something went sour with the stock market last year, at least, so far as his investments were concerned.” Tenny shrugged. “It didn’t bother me one bit, thank goodness. If I’d been dependent on Dad for money, I’d be feeling pretty sunk right now. Instead, I’m enjoying this job immensely.”
    “That’s the way Jim and Honey and Di feel about money,” Trixie said. “They’re all very rich, you know, but they always act as though they didn’t have a cent except for the money they earn themselves. One of the rules of our club is that every member must contribute money to it that he or she earned himself.”
    “That’s a good motto,” Tenny said approvingly. “Mr. Wilson was lucky that kids like you arrived when you did. And you’re all doing a great job, I hear.” He frowned thoughtfully. “It’s too bad Mr. Wellingtons children didn’t come out here for Christmas, as they planned. He was telling me about them last night. They sound like spoiled brats to me. Meeting boys and girls like you Bob-Whites would have done them a world of good.”
    “I don’t know about that,” Trixie said modestly, “but I wish they hadn’t disappointed their father. He’s so nice and jolly.”
    It was getting late, and they began to hurry.
    “I’ll be sitting up in the op'ry house with the rest of you dudes,” Tenny told Trixie, “only I’ll act as a sort of emcee. You know. I’ll announce and interpret events and answer questions.”
    “The opera house?” Trixie repeated. “I don’t get it.
    “That’s what cowboys call the top rail of the breaking corral,” he explained.
    Trixie could see now that most of the seats in the “op’ry house” had already been taken. But when they got closer, Honey waved and pointed to an