Mystery in Arizona by Julie Campbell

any more popular with Nurse Girard than we are with Foreman Howie.” For a fleeting second, Trixie wished she were back home where no one was ever scolded for laughing.
    Honey started to giggle but quickly clapped her hand over her mouth. “Let’s never do anything to make her or Miss Mall mad. They might quit and then we’d have those patients’ rooms to take care of.”
    This thought sobered them and they quickly but quietly donned their attractive uniforms.
    “They probably belonged to Maria’s sisters-in-law,” Di whispered. “It’s lucky that they’re the type of costume that fits practically anybody and everybody. You two look simply darling.”
    “And you,” Honey said softly, “look ravishingly beautiful as always. And now we’d better tiptoe over to the dining-room and set the tables.”
    When this chore was done they went on to the kitchen where Rosita and Maria were preparing breakfast. “For the help,” they said, smiling.
    “I’m glad I’m help,” said Trixie, drenching a golden-brown waffle with butter and maple syrup.
    The boys, wearing their “bullfighter” costumes, arrived while the girls were still eating.

    “Wow!” Mart cried out. “Don’t you gals look purty! Except Trixie, of course. She always looks odd in feminine garments.”
    Trixie glared at him. “You and your blond crew cut look pretty odd in those garments, in case you’re interested. I trust,” she added sarcastically, “that you had a pleasant moonlight ride last night and that the foreman now dotes upon each and every one of you.”
    “Truer words were never spoken,” said Mart, helping himself to a waffle. “Once dear old Howie realized that we know a thing or two about horses and are experts when it comes to cleaning the tack, he took us to his bosom.”
    “That’s a slight exaggeration,” Jim said, his green eyes twinkling. “But I’m sure you gals can easily win him over to your side. You can’t blame him for being allergic to dudes who insist upon riding when they know nothing about it. There are morning classes for beginners, but apparently many of the guests refuse to take lessons and yet think they should be allowed to go along on the afternoon rides.”
    “I wish,” said Trixie dubiously, “that I thought we could win our d.g.’s over to our side as easily as you think we can win over Foreman Howie.”
    “Your
what?
” Mart yelled. “Elucidate, old thing.”
    The breakfast bell chimed while Trixie was explaining about the difficult guests.
    “Now you must hurry,” Maria advised the girls soberly. “If you have not finished those three rooms by eight-fifteen the guests will return to them and may keep you there indefinitely. That will ruin your whole morning schedule and may mean that instead of riding in the afternoon you will have to finish your work.”
    She handed each of them a dust cloth and a dry mop and shooed them out of the door.
    It was cold outside and Trixie shivered, wailing, “But I don’t know where to go.” She stared longingly down at the corral, and the stables which flanked it on one side.
    “Just follow me,” said Di, hurrying ahead of them along the path. “In order to avoid the crowd around the entrance to the dining-room, we’ll enter the house from the east patio. Our special guests have rooms on the south side of the living-room.”
    Trixie brightened. “In that case they must live in cells as small as ours because the south wall of the living-room is practically nothing but a picture window.”
    Di nodded. “It shouldn’t take us ten minutes to make the beds and tidy those rooms. My one idea is to be gone before Mr. X. Wellington comes back. And Iknow Honey has no desire to meet Mrs. Astorbilt Sherman if she can avoid it.”
    Trixie snorted. “If you think I’m dying to meet Calamity Jane, you’ve got another think coming.”
    As they hurried into the living-room they could see through the glass door to the west patio where the guests waited for