Produced by Juliet Sutherland, Mary Meehan and the Online Distributed
Proofreading Team
Betty Gordon at Boarding School
The Treasure of Indian Chasm
1921
"Me make you velly nice apple tart. Miss Betty." The Chinese cookflourished his rolling pin with one hand and swung his apron viciouslywith the other as he held open the screen door and swept out someimaginary flies.
Lee Chang, cook for the bunk house in the oil fields, could do severalthings at one time, as he had frequently proved.
The girl, who was watching a wiry little bay horse contentedly crop grassthat grew in straggling whisps about the fence posts, looked up andshowed an even row of white teeth as she smiled.
"I don't think we're going to stay for dinner to-day," she said halfregretfully. "I know your apple tarts, Lee Chang—they are delicious."
The fat Chinaman closed the screen door and went on with his pastrymaking. From time to time, as he passed from the table to the oven, heglanced out. Betty Gordon still stood watching the horse.
"That Bob no come?" inquired Lee Chang, poking his head out of the dooragain. Fast developing into a good American, his natural trait ofcuriosity gave him the advantage of acquiring information blandly andwith ease.
Betty shaded her eyes with her hand. The Oklahoma sun was pitiless. Farup the road that ran straight away from the bunk house a faint cloud ofdust was rising.
"He's coming now," said the girl confidently.
Lee Chang grunted and returned to his work, satisfied that whatever Bettywas waiting for would soon be at hand.
"Bake tart 'fore that boy goes away," the Chinaman muttered to himself,waddling hastily to the oven, opening it, and closing the door again witha satisfied sniff.
The cloud of dust whirled more madly, rose higher. Out from the center ofit finally emerged a raw-boned white horse that galloped with amazingawkwardness and incredible speed