, and his driving seemed a reckless invitation
to disaster. "I betche I'll make 'em good and sick uh _my_ cooking!"
he plotted while he went rattling and bumping over the untrailed
prairie.

He succeeded so well that two days later Chip gave a curt order or two
and headed his wagons, horses and his lean-stomached bunch of riders
for Dry Lake, passing by even the Flying U coulee in his haste. Just
outside the town, upon the creek which saves the inhabitants from
dying of thirst or _delirium tremens_, he left the wagons with Happy
Jack, Slim and one alien to set up camp and rode dust-dogged to the
little, red depot.

The telegram which went speeding to Great Falls and to a friend there
was brief, but it was eloquent and not quite flattering to Happy Jack.
It read like this:

"JOHN G. SCOTT,

"The Palace, Great Falls.

"For God's sake send me a cook by return train; must deliver goods
or die hard.

"BENNETT, Flying U."

Whether the cook must die hard, or whether he meant the friend, Chip
did not trouble to make plain. Telegrams are bound by such rigid
limitations, and he had gone over the ten-word rate as it was. But he
told Weary to receive the cook, be he white or black, have him restock
the mess-wagon to his liking and then bring the outfit to the ranch,
when Chip would again take it in hand. He said that he was going home
to get a square meal, and he mentioned Happy Jack along with several
profane words. "Johnny Scott will send a cook, and a good one,"; he
added hopefully. "Johnny never threw down a friend in his life and he
never will. And say, Weary, if he wires, you collect the message and
act accordingly. I'm going to have a decent supper, to-night!" He was
riding a good horse and there was no reason why he should be late in
arriving, especially if he kept the gait at which he left town.

In two hours Weary, Pink and Andy Green were touching hat-brims over a
telegram from Johnny Scott--a telegram which was brief as Chip's, and
more illuminating:

"CHIP BENNETT,

"Dry Lake.

"Kidnaped Park hotel chef best cook in town will be on next train.
J.G. SCOTT."

"Sounds good," mused Andy, reading it for the fourth time. "But
there's thirteen words in that telegram, if yuh notice."

"I wish yuh wouldn't try to butt in on Happy Jack's specialty," Weary
remonstrated, folding the message and slipping it inside the yellow
envelope. "If this is the same jasper that cooked there a month