Jack's arm and shoulder were swathed in white cotton and she had none of her usual color, but she was out on the veranda and insisted that she was not suffering in the least.

"Nonsense, Jack," Mrs Simpson returned kindly. "You are not angry at the scolding I gave you last night, are you? You know you deserved it, but of course you and Jean were only thoughtless. We have forgotten all about it to-day."

Jack looked away. "Everybody hasn't forgotten, Aunt Sallie, but I am not running away because of that. I had a note from Jim this morning and I think he needs me at the ranch."

Mrs. Simpson flushed. "I know you are referring to my niece and sister, Jack, but you must remember that Mrs. Post and Laura have lived always in the East. Laura has been very carefully brought up and they are not accustomed to our Western ways of looking at things. But I am sure that if you show them you are sorry, they will forgive you in course of time."

Jack's face was no longer pale, she was crimson with anger. If there was one thing in the world which she had no intention of doing, it was to show penitence for her conduct to Laura Post or her mother. It seemed to Jack that to treat a guest in the fashion that Miss Post had treated her and Jean and to be malicious and vain and small-minded, was a good deal worse than to have committed the thoughtless act that she and Jean had been guilty of. But for the sake of Mrs. Simpson, Jacqueline for the moment held her peace. She hoped she would be able to hold it until she got away from the Simpson ranch, but was by no means sure.

Olive and Frieda were out in the yard walking quietly up and down. Frieda was chattering like a magpie, but the Indian girl was silent and rarely lifted her eyes. Frieda waved to Jack and the two girls started toward her and Mrs. Simpson, but at this moment, Laura Post and Dan came out of the front door of the ranch house.

Jack saw Laura stop and say something to the Indian girl. Olive turned quickly and with her head drooping went directly into the house.

Sturdy little Frieda stood stock still and then raised a pair of indignant blue eyes to Laura. "I don't believe you!" she exclaimed hotly, "I am going to ask Jack."

Frieda rushed across the porch, her eyes streaming with tears and flung herself into Jacqueline's arms, Dan Norton and Laura following her more slowly.

Neither Olive nor Frieda had been told anything of Mrs. Simpson's plan to keep Olive at her ranch as a maid for her niece. There had not been time to discuss it and Mrs. Simpson had been too busy that morning to talk to the Indian girl, but regarded the matter as having been entirely settled with the ranch girls.

"Oh, please, Jack," Frieda cried, her voice trembling, "Laura Post just told Olive to go into the house at once. She said that as long as Olive was to be her maid, she did not wish her to be out in the front with her guests. It wasn't true, was it? She is coming back home with us, isn't she?"

Jack made no reply. She only looked at Laura Post with a pair of clear, wide open, grey eyes that held more than a touch of scorn in them.

For once, Mrs. Simpson appeared slightly displeased with her adored niece. "Laura," she remarked disapprovingly, "I am sorry you spoke in that way to the Indian girl. Remember I asked her here as your guest. I have not had time to explain to her that she is to remain as your maid."

"What on earth is all this pow-wow about?" Jean demanded, appearing suddenly on the scene, swinging a tennis racquet and followed by Harry, who was usually her shadow. "You look as tragic as the tale of Solomon Grundy. 'Died on Saturday, buried on Sunday, this was the end of Solomon Grundy,'" Jean chanted in mournful tones. "Who are you trying to get rid of, at present?"

"No one, Jean," Mrs. Simpson replied. "I was only speaking to Laura of the Indian girl's remaining here as her maid. I will go now and tell the girl about it myself."

Jean caught hold of Aunt Sallie's ample skirts. "Not so quickly, please, Aunt Sallie," she urged, while she looked pleadingly at Jack. "We are not sure that we can give up Olive to you. You must not be angry, for you know we did find her first and we have the first right to her."

"But I have got to have some one to wait on me," Laura broke in pettishly. "I can't button my own shoes and comb my hair, and Auntie promised me this girl for my maid."

"Never mind, dear," Mrs. Simpson returned soothingly. "It is all settled, Jean and Jack can't possibly be so foolish as to attempt to keep this girl at Rainbow Lodge."

"Oh, yes, we can, Aunt Sallie," Jack answered, sweetly but firmly. "I have been wanting to talk to you alone, but I haven't had a chance. I have thought things all over and though we do not wish Olive for a servant at Rainbow Lodge, we do want her for another ranch girl!" You could have heard a pin drop as Jacqueline went on. "You see we have plenty of room in our home and I am sure that four girls ought to be even happier together than just three. If Olive will trust herself with us, we shall try to do the best that we can for her. I hope some day, for her sake, we may find out who she really is, but if not, why perhaps she may be willing to be known as one of us."

Jack looked so proud and at the same time so generous and fine that Frank Kent, who was standing near enough to overhear her, wanted to shout with delight, but managed to appear perfectly indifferent, though Laura did think she heard him say "Ripping!" under his breath.

Mrs. Simpson was crimson with vexation. "Very well, Jack Ralston, do as you like," she replied coldly. "Understand I wash my hands of the whole affair. You will live to regret this piece of Quixotic foolishness and when this Indian girl gets you into trouble, don't come to me."

"We won't, Aunt Sallie," Jacqueline returned gently. "And I hope you won't think we are ungrateful to you. We saw lots of real Indian girls at the village yesterday, perhaps Miss Post will have one of them as her maid. I'll ask Olive to recommend one."

Jack walked quietly away from the group on the veranda, holding Frieda by the hand while Jean murmured more apologies to Aunt Sallie, being as careful as possible not to look that lady in the face. Miss Bruce hardly wished Mrs. Simpson to see how her brown eyes were dancing with pleasure and pride, but when Aunt Sallie had gone away, Jean made no effort to conceal her satisfaction from Laura Post and Dan Norton.

Jacqueline marched straight in to find Olive. She was not in her room. She was not in the maids' room, nor in the big kitchen. Hong Su, Mrs. Simpson's Chinese cook, explained that the 'Lil Mlissie' had gone out in the back yard.

To one side and behind the Simpson ranch house was a large kitchen garden, at only a short distance from the house itself.

Jack and Frieda could not find Olive at once. There was nothing to hide her and she could not have gone down to the stables that were some distance away, yet she was nowhere in sight.

Half an acre of Indian corn was ripening and yellowing in the sun. It rustled and its long dried leaves crackled and swayed, and they soon saw the Indian girl walking through it with her head bent and tears falling fast. Straightway Jacqueline thought of the Song of Hiawatha and the Indian legend of the corn. Poor little Olive was the Minnehaha, after her laughter had been stilled! Frieda ran straight to her friend and threw her arms around her. "Oh, Olive, it isn't true," she cried. "You are to come home with us to Rainbow Lodge."

But Olive shook her head. She could not understand.

Jacqueline took the girl's slender, brown hand. "Olive," she asked gently, "do you think you could be happy if you came to live with us at the ranch? I am dreadfully cross sometimes and you may not like me, but Frieda and Jean are dears. We are only girls like you and perhaps we may make mistakes, but you won't mind, if we all do our best together."

Jacqueline was frightened at the expression of the Indian girl's face. "You want me to live with you like one of you?" she gasped. "Oh, it can't, it can't be true."

"But it can be true, Olilie," Jack answered lightly, using the girl's pretty Indian name. "And there is nothing so remarkable in our wanting to have you. Suppose when mother and father came out here to Wyoming from the East, something had happened to them and they had left me somewhere for a stranger to find me. Then the same thing might have happened to me that has happened to you, and I am sure you would have come along and rescued me if you could."

"Then you don't think I am an Indian girl?" Olive questioned eagerly.

Jack hesitated. "I don't know, Olive, I'm sure," she returned. "Of course I was only talking. Come, let's pack up our things, I think we will go home to-morrow."

"But if Laska and Josef come back for me?" Olive pleaded, unable to believe in her wonderful good fortune.

Jacqueline's face sobered. She was thinking of what Jim Colter would say when he learned of their adoption of Olive. She knew that Jim was troubled about something; had the ranch girls any right to offer a home to any one when their own future was so uncertain?

But Jack's lips closed firmly. "Never mind, Olive," she answered. "We won't worry over things until they happen, when they do we will face them the best we can."

Rainbow Lodge had never looked more dear and homelike than it did when the four ranch girls arrived before its open front door. Jim had sent one of the cowboys to drive them home and Jack wondered why he had not come himself. But she forgot to ask what had kept him, when she saw Aunt Ellen's smiling face and smelt the odor of ginger cookies coming from the kitchen back of her.

"Isn't it great to be at home, children?" Jack exclaimed triumphantly. But Frieda had flown to look after her chickens and Jean was shaking hands with old Zack, who was building the frames over her violet beds.

"This bandage is cutting my arm off, Olive," Jack went on, noticing Olive's wistful face as Jack said the word "home." "Won't you come in and fix it for me, please? I am going to make you and Jean and Frieda wait on me all I can, now we are away from Aunt Sallie's. Of course I had to pretend my arm didn't hurt over there, because I knew that that abominable Laura Post and Dan Norton would say 'serves her right,' every time I had a twinge of pain."

Jack was talking nonsense to keep Olive from thinking and as the two girls passed under the arch of the door, Jack kissed her lightly. "Good luck to Ranch Girl Number Four. May you live long and prosper at Rainbow Lodge," she whispered.