Grace Harlowe's Overland Riders on the Great American Desert Part 6

"Yes. Ike said I'd have my hands full, and that you folks would trot a pace that would make my legs weary trying to keep up with you. Said you weren't afraid of anything that walked, crept or crawled."

Grace laughed merrily.

"Mr. Fairweather is mistaken. I am terribly shy of snakes and-- and--well, I don't know what else" she added lamely.

Hi Lang chuckled under his breath.

"Yes, that's our camp where you see the smoke. I just caught a glimpse of Ping. I reckon when we get closer we'll hear his voice."

"We are almost there, girls," Grace called back to her companions.

"That is Ping's smoke you see yonder."

"Is Ping on fire?" answered Emma so innocently that the Overlanders shouted with laughter, and Hi indulged in the hearty, soundless laugh that they had already discovered was characteristic of him.

A few moments later a cooling breeze from the range was wafted down to them, heavy with, odors of mountain and foliage and suggestive of cooling mountain water as well.

"What's that screeching?" demanded Hippy Wingate, as they fell into single file and began climbing a narrow mountain trail.

"Screeching?" answered Anne Nesbit. "Why, that's our Celestial being singing a lullaby to the coyotes lurking in their dens."

As they drew nearer those in advance could make out some of the words of the song. The guide pointed to a rock, behind which Ping was cooking supper, and held up a hand to indicate that the party was to stop and listen.

"What on earth, is he saying?" wondered Nora Wingate.

"I should call it a heathen version of 'Little Jack Horner,'"

suggested Miss Briggs.

Hi nodded.

"Listen!" urged Grace. "I want to hear it. Perhaps he will sing it again."

The guide said that when Ping got started on a song he ordinarily kept it up for some time unless interrupted.

"Sh--h--h!" warned Grace as Emma began to laugh. "He is singing again."

Ping, in a high falsetto voice that was almost a screech, sang:

"Littee Jack Horner Makee sit inside corner, Chow-chow he Clismas pie; He put inside t'um, Hab catchee one plum, Hai yah! what one good chilo (child) my!"

The Overland girls, unable longer to contain their laughter, burst into a shout of merriment. The song ceased instantly, and a moment later Ping appeared at the top of the rock, clad in a white linen suit, the blouse, with its wide-flowing sleeves, being cut in native Chinese fashion The queue, which Ping had declined to part was tucked into a side pocket, being all braided up and shiny, like a snake.

The Chinaman, in greeting, bowed and sc.r.a.ped and smiled and shook hands with himself cordially.

"Hulloa, Ping Pong! Is supper ready?" called Hippy jovially.

"Him come along, top-side piecee Heaven pidgin man," answered the Chinaman without an instant's hesitation, which, being freely translated, meant, "Supper is ready, high Heaven-born man." The retort brought a peal of laughter from the girls and a flush to the face of Hippy.

"All right, old top. You win," was the way Hippy confessed his defeat.

It was a happy, laughing group that rode around the rock and into the camp where odors of cooking food, and the smiling face of Ping Wing, met them. Horses were quickly unsaddled and tethered, then the guide introduced his charges. Ping shook hands with himself at each introduction, and smiled and bowed with a profound grace that would have done credit at a king's reception.

"You belongee plenty smart inside," was his greeting to Grace Harlowe, which she interpreted correctly, Ping having meant to convey that, in his opinion, she was an intelligent woman.

"Thank you. Is mess ready?"

"Les. You belongee one time Flance!" he questioned, touching the sleeve of her Red Cross uniform.

"Yes, we all were in France. I drove an ambulance there; Mr.

Wingate was an aviator, and the other young ladies worked in hospitals and canteens. How do you know about France?"

"Me cook-man in Melican army. No likee war. Belongee too muchee number one blam, blam!"

"You mean the shooting? You mean you did not like to have the big German sh.e.l.ls come over?" smiled the Overland girl.

"No likee."

Hippy's appet.i.te was getting the better him and at this juncture he voiced his desire for food.

"Come, come, Ping. We are hungry. Rustle some grub for us, for we may wish to on our way," urged Hi Lang.

Ping, thus reminded of his duty, hurriedly gathered the mess kits of the party and soon produced a really fine supper, which the Overlanders ate sitting on the ground.

"Are you people pretty tired?" questioned Grace.

A chorus of yeses answered her. Elfreda Briggs said she was so lame that she would be glad never to look at a saddle again, and Emma Dean declared that her body felt as if it had been sandpapered.

"I have been thinking that perhaps we had better make camp right here and go on to the desert some time to-morrow. Will that interfere with your plans Mr. Lang?" asked Grace.

The guide said it would not, and the girls of the party eagerly urged that they be permitted to stay where they were and have a good night's rest, so it was decided to pitch their little tents on the spot and lay up for the night.

"Ping tells me that a man visited this camp late in the afternoon and asked a great many questions," Hi Lang then informed them.

"The caller, according to Ping, showed a heap of interest in what we were here for, where we were going and what we proposed to do, and said that the best thing for you ladies to do would be to turn about and go back to Elk Run. Do you know of any one who might be interested in heading off your journey over the desert, Mrs.

Gray?" he asked, bending a searching look on Grace.

"I do not, Mr. Lang. If I did it would make no difference in our plans. Ping may be mistaken about the man's motive."

The guide shook his head.

"Ping Wing is not easily deceived. He the caller was a 'number one blad man,' only he expressed it with some further words to emphasize his point. There's something about this business that I don't like. I'll keep my eyes peeled."

"Don't worry, Hi," soothed Hippy. "This outfit can take care of any bad characters that get in its way. I--"

"Merciful Heaven! What's that!" cried Emma Dean.

"Ping is in trouble!" cried Elfreda.

A shrill screeching, accompanied by the clatter of tinware, a struggle, then two quick shots brought the Overlanders to their feet. There was a quick rush toward the scene of the disturbance, the guide, Grace and Hippy in the lead as they ran stumbling over the rough ground in the darkness.