The former chuck-wagon cook looked hurt. “Bud Barclay, you-all don’t know a good thing when you eat it. That’s jest a plain old chicken sandwich-with some ground-up nuts and horseradish sauce. I learned about it from a Chinese cook.”
“Well, you can give that recipe back to your Chinese friend,” retorted Bud.
There actually were tears in his eyes and Chow finally admitted that perhaps he had put too much horseradish in the sandwich.
Suddenly Bud realized that he had not chosen the sandwich himself. Chow had handed it to him. He looked at the cook with suspicion in his eyes. But before he could say anything more, Chow fled.
Tom roared with laughter. “I guess after this, Bud, you’ll think twice before you kid Chow about his cooking.”
The rest of the food was delicious, and Sterling and Hanson declared that if it were a sample of the meals they were to have on the rest of the trip, they would vote Chow the best cook in the West.
Two hours later they were winging over eroded scrub country and Tom went back to the pilot’s seat. Below the ship great black boulders, cracked by weathering, were strewn about like so many pebbles.
ARV UNDER SUSPICION 109
Rusty valleys of clay, splotched with green rivulets and caked yellow terraces, broke the plains into forked patterns.
There was not a sign of civilization. Here and there yucca trees poked their spines into the arid air. A few minutes later they were flying over a vast level area, obviously smoothed by man’s efforts.
“Here we are!” Tom announced.
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