could’ve done that last night when we put the things in here.”

Florence turned and started back toward the house. “It won’t do any good to stand here talking about it. Come on, we’ll find something else to cook in place of the bacon for breakfast. It’s a good thing we brought some canned milk along for an emergency, but we’ll have to do without butter for several days, till I can get some sent out from the city.”

Jo Ann ran to catch up with Peggy and Florence. “Why can’t you get some butter from the people down at the goat ranch?” she asked.

Florence laughed. “Why, they probably wouldn’t even know what I was talking about.”

“Don’t they use butter?”

“No, the peons never use it.”

“Well, then, let’s get extra milk and make it ourselves.”

“How? We haven’t a churn.”

“I’ve seen my mother make butter by stirring the cream in a bowl or jar,” Jo Ann explained.

Just then they reached the house, and all three ran on inside and began telling Mrs. Blackwell of their loss.

“Mrs. Blackwell, what is your opinion about the mysterious visitor—was he man or beast?” asked Jo Ann finally.

“I couldn’t say, of course, but it seems to me an animal would hardly carry off the glass jars of milk and butter.”

Jo Ann stared at Mrs. Blackwell a moment. “I hadn’t thought of that,” she said, then turned and went on outside.

Peggy glanced over at Florence. “Everything seems to point to those people as the guilty parties, doesn’t it? Jo hates to admit it, though.”

“Oh well, it wasn’t much, and anyway, we can’t prove that they are the guilty ones. Let’s forget about it and see what we can find for breakfast.” She got up and went out in the kitchen with Jo Ann.

A few minutes later Peggy joined them, and before long they had the emergency breakfast ready: coffee, dry cereal with canned milk, batter cakes with brown sugar syrup, and oranges.

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