Bert Wilson in the Rockies | Page 9

East
was more to see you than anything else. He said he was going on
business, but I have my own opinion about that."

"Well, if it hadn't been for him we wouldn't have been there to see,"
said Bert warmly. "The vultures would have had us long ago, if he
hadn't risked his own life to help us out of trouble."
"Nothing at all, nothing at all," deprecated Melton. "You gave me a
chance for a lovely scrap, just when I was beginning to wonder whether
I'd forgotten how to fight. I've felt ten years younger ever since."
"You don't need to get any younger," retorted his wife in affectionate
reproach. "You're just as much of a boy as you ever were. I declare,"
she laughed, turning to her guests; "I ought to call him Peter Pan. He'll
never grow up."
"Well, he's a pretty husky youngster," grinned Tom, looking admiringly
at his host's two hundred and forty pounds of bone and muscle.
But now Mrs. Melton's housewifely instincts asserted themselves, and
she shooed the boys off to their rooms to rid themselves of the dust of
the journey, while she bustled round to get supper on the table.
A few minutes later and they were gathered at supper in the
brightly-lighted, well-furnished dining-room of the ranch. It was a jolly
party, where every one radiated happiness and good nature. There was
not a particle of stiffness or pretence in that wholesome environment.
The delight of their hosts in having them there found an echo in the
hearts of the boys, and they were soon on as genial and friendly a
footing as though they had known them all their lives.
And that supper! To the hungry boys, with their naturally keen
appetites still further sharpened by the long ride, it seemed a feast fit
for the Gods. The table fairly groaned beneath the weight of good
things placed upon it. Crisp trout freshly taken from the mountain
brook, a delicious roast flanked by snowy mounds of potatoes and
vegetables just plucked from the garden patch, luscious berries warm
with the sun, deluged with rich cream, and pastries "such as mother
used to make" offered a challenge to the boys that they gleefully
accepted. They ate like famished wolves, while Mrs. Melton bridled
with pride at the tribute paid to her cooking; and, when at last they had

fairly cleared the board, they sat back with a sigh of content at duty
well performed.
"How about those belts?" laughed Melton, as he lighted his pipe.
"Tight as a drum," Tom answered for all. "You called my bluff, all
right."
"Sallie certainly knows how to cook," said Mr. Melton, patting his
wife's hand.
"You mustn't give me all the credit," smiled Mrs. Melton, smoothing
out her apron. "That Chinese cook you brought back with you the last
time you went to Helena is certainly a treasure. I don't know how I'd
get along now without him."
"That reminds me," said Melton, with a quick glance at his wife. "Just
send him in here for a minute, will you?"
She went into the kitchen and a moment later returned, followed by a
Chinaman, who shuffled along in his heelless slippers.
The boys glanced at him indifferently for a moment. Then a startled
recognition leaped into their eyes.
"Wah Lee," they cried in chorus, jumping to their feet.
"That same old yellow sinner," confirmed Melton complacently.
The Chinaman himself was shocked for a moment out of his Oriental
stolidity. A delighted smile spread over his face and he broke into an
excited jargon of "pidgin English," of which the refrain was:
"Velly glad slee. Wah Lee velly glad slee."
Then in a burst of grateful memory he threw himself to the floor and
tried to put their feet upon his head, as a token that he was their slave
for life. But they jerked him upright in a torrent of eager questioning.

"You old rascal."
"How did you ever get here?"
"I thought you were back in China by this time."
But Wah Lee's smile was more expansive than his vocabulary was
extensive.
"Him tell," he said, pointing to Mr. Melton.
"I thought it would be a surprise party," that worthy chuckled as he
refilled his pipe. "So I didn't tell you anything about it nor did I tell the
Chink that you were coming. It was a surprise, all right," and he
chuckled again.
"It won't take very long to explain," he went on when his pipe was
drawing well. "You remember that after you got back from your trip to
the Canal you gave him money enough to go West and start a little
laundry business wherever he might choose to settle down. It seems he
drifted out to Helena, where there's quite