The Adventure Girls, with their companions, rode along briskly through the bright sunshine. They were all anxious to reach the spot where the outlaws had been as soon as possible so they did not dawdle along the way.

“Gale and Val don’t know what they’re missing,” Janet declared as they jogged along. “It’s not every day you can join in a chase for bandits.”

“But just think of them lounging around eating big chunks of fudge,” Carol said mischievously.

Janet frowned on her. “Must you give voice to such disturbing thoughts? If they don’t save me a piece, I’ll never forgive them,” she added darkly.

“What’s the matter with you?” Virginia asked Phyllis as the latter rode along between Virginia and Tom.

“I?” Phyllis laughed, “I’ve got a funny feeling that I’d like to run back to the ranch. Call it a premonition or----”

“A hunch,” supplied Tom. “Well, it’s about time we called a halt. I’m thirsty,” he declared, sliding from his saddle and approaching the little stream beside which the party had halted.

The afternoon was wearing fast away and long shadows were appearing under the trees.

“Say, Sheriff, when do you reckon we’ll find these fellows?” Tom wanted to know.

“’Bout two, three hours yet,” the Sheriff replied.

“That means we’ll be riding back to the ranch in the moonlight,” put in Madge.

“For which three cheers,” added Janet. “I like night riding.”

When they remounted, Phyllis declared her intention of returning to the ranch house. It took a bit of determination to persuade the others to leave her, but she was firm about it and finally watched them ride off without her. Then she turned her horse and headed back to the K Bar O. She was in no hurry now, so she let her pony proceed at a leisurely walk.

It was strange, this feeling she had, that she should go back to her friends. She could not tell why she should feel so. There was certainly nothing that could happen to them at the ranch. Yet she had that queer feeling that there was something doing, something in which she should have a part.

She looked up at the setting sun. It would be dark before she reached the ranch house and, she plotted mischievously, she would surprise Gale and Valerie. Pounce on them all unaware. Behind her sounded the beat of hoofs and Tom rode into sight.

“Hi, there!” he called. “Wait up for a pal.”

“Going home, too?” she demanded.

“Yep,” he nodded, reining his horse in beside hers. “I thought you might get lost, so I’ll be your guide.”

“Was it me or was it Val’s fudge,” Phyllis asked suspiciously, “that made you decide to come along?”

“Well now,” Tom drawled, a twinkle in his eye, “I reckon the fudge was an added inducement.”

“I thought so,” laughed Phyllis.

“That hunch of yours must have been strong to take you back to the ranch,” Tom declared after a while. “It’s strange,” Phyllis frowned. “I can’t account for it.”

“Hunches are funny things,” Tom agreed. “Sometimes they’re right and sometimes--well, sometimes they’re not so good.”

“Do you get them?” Phyllis asked.

“Lots of times,” he agreed. “I remember once a couple years ago, I was out night riding with the herd. I made up my mind to return to the ranch in the middle of the night. I came to a fork in the trail and a hunch told me to take the trail to the right, so I did. Well, all of a sudden my horse balked and refused to budge another step. He was right stubborn about it too. I reckon I called him everything I could think of and used my whip a lot, too. But he just set back on his haunches and refused to go on.

“It was so dark I couldn’t see a thing of what was ahead an’ thought maybe Dusty was afraid of something. Usually he was the best-behaved horse on the K Bar O.”

“What did you do?” Phyllis asked interestedly.

“I got down and took out my flashlight. I got a habit of carryin’ a light with me, and turned it ahead of us. Did my hair stand on end! Here I had been trying to drive him off a sixty-foot cliff. All he would have had to take was one step to land us both in kingdom come.”

“He had good reason to be stubborn,” Phyllis murmured in awe. “I didn’t know horses had such sense!”

“Yep, you can trust a horse’s judgment in preference to a man’s sometimes,” Tom said. “Especially in the country out here.”

They rode along, chatting amiably, while the sun sank farther and farther out of sight.

“Boy, am I hungry!” Tom declared. “I hope Loo Wong has supper ready.”

“But he doesn’t know we’re coming,” Phyllis reminded him.

“Surely Gale and Val intend to eat,” Tom said. “There will be enough for us, too.”

When they rode into the ranch yard it was dark and the windows of the bunkhouse and the ranch house were gleaming yellow. Three horses stood saddled by the corral. When Phyllis and Tom rode up and dismounted, Tom went across and examined the horses curiously. He was back at Phyllis’ side in a moment.

“Something funny going on here,” he said in a low undertone. “The place is too quiet to be natural.” “My hunch was right,” Phyllis murmured in return. “But what is it? Don’t you know those three horses?”

“No, never saw ’em before,” he answered. “Let’s go to the bunkhouse and see if we can find Loo Wong.”

Cautiously they crossed the ranch yard and peered in the bunkhouse window. Phyllis involuntarily caught her breath at what they saw.

Loo Wong was seated against the wall and directly in front of him, across the table, his back to the window and door, sat another man, a dirty, unkempt individual. The latter had his feet propped on the table and a rifle aimed squarely at Loo Wong’s head. Loo Wong was glaring fruitlessly at his enemy. The situation was highly injurious to his oriental pride and this disgusting individual was keeping him from his duties in the kitchen. Wong was properly angry, but he had no desire to resort to violence and perhaps end up with a bullet in him from the other’s gun, so he submitted impassively.

“What can we do?” Phyllis demanded of Tom.

Neither of the two was armed, but it was imperative that they rescue Loo Wong and determine what, if anything, had happened to Gale and Valerie. Tom pulled his hat, the usual ten gallon size, farther down on his forehead and grinned maliciously.

“You stay here,” he directed in a tone that brooked no argument.

Around by the door was piled firewood. Loo Wong was negligent in carrying his wood into the kitchen and usually commissioned one of the cowboys to do it, but today no one had bothered. Tom chose a piece that would be admirable as a club and approached the door.

Not by a glance or a sound did Loo Wong betray himself when he saw the door slowly open and the face of the young boss appear. He kept his almond eyes fixed on the man opposite him, hands hidden in his enveloping sleeves, face perfectly impassive. What was going on in his mind it was impossible to tell.

Phyllis, watching at the window, wondered how in the world he managed to sit so perfectly still. She, herself, was almost dancing in impatience. She expected to see the outlaw whirl about and shoot at Tom any minute. It was impossible that he could be wholly ignorant of Tom’s presence. She held her breath as Tom shut the door behind him and approached catlike to his prey. She saw the man suddenly straighten in his chair and stand up. He turned and at the same time Tom hurled himself forward. The man fired his rifle and Phyllis instinctively ducked. It was fortunate that she did, for the bullet crashed through the glass over her head. When she cautiously raised her eyes to the window again, the outlaw was on the floor and Loo Wong was grinning at Tom.

Phyllis left the window and ran to the door. She wanted to get up to the ranch house and see if Gale and Val were safe and sound, but she wanted company, for something told her she might run into trouble. Ever since she had seen that man guarding Loo Wong, she had a secret conviction that the girls were in trouble. If they were, it was up to her, Tom, and Loo Wong, to get them out of it. The Sheriff and the others wouldn’t be back for hours yet.

“That’ll hold him for a while,” Tom declared as she appeared. He dusted his hands and turned to the Chinese cook. “What happened, Wong?”

Laboriously and in his funny English, Loo Wong proceeded to acquaint the others with the details of how the man had surprised him at work and held him prisoner at the point of a gun. Of the two girls in the ranch house, he knew nothing. He had not known the man who accosted him had had companions.

“When did he come, Loo Wong?” Tom asked.

“Mebbe one, almost one hour,” the Chinaman said with a shrug of his shoulders. “Time flies.”

“Don’t you think we better go up to the house?” Phyllis asked Tom worriedly.

“Yes, come along, Wong!” Tom said turning to the door.

“One moment, please,” the Chinaman said and disappeared into the kitchen.

“What do you suppose he is after?” Phyllis asked impatiently.

“I don’t know,” Tom said with a half smile. “He has a funny idea in his head, I suppose.”

He was as anxious as Phyllis to get to the ranch house. He believed, now, that the hunt the Sheriff and the others had gone on was a hoax. For some reason the outlaws had come here to the ranch, of that he was certain, and he thanked his stars he had decided to return to the K Bar O with Phyllis. He knew the men, on the day the Sheriff had arrested them, had sworn to get even with the two girls who were responsible for their capture, but he had not dreamed that they would attempt anything--above all, here at the ranch. He tried not to seem worried in front of Phyllis, but he was.

Loo Wong appeared from the kitchen brandishing his meat cleaver. The wide, sharp blade gleamed dully in the lamplight.

“Don’t aim that thing at me,” Tom laughed. “What are you going to do with it?”

“Show blandits tlwo, thlee thing,” Loo Wong said gravely.

“You’ll show them two or three stars if you hit them with that,” Phyllis declared. “Let’s go, Tom.”

The three stepped from the bunkhouse and started across the yard. From the house ahead of them came a crash and the light in the front room went out. A shout arose, then another.

“Stay here, Phyllis,” Tom said, starting forward at a run. “Come along, Wong.”

“Velly fast!” responded the Chinaman, his cleaver clasped tightly in his hand, ready to smash the first thing that accosted him.