With this philosophical conclusion, Betty pulled a letter from her
pocket and fell to reading it. Bobby Littell had written a letter for
each day of the journey and Betty had derived genuine pleasure from
these gay notes so like the cheerful, sunny Roberta herself. This
morning's letter was taken up with school plans for the fall, and the
writer expressed a wish that Betty might go with them to boarding
school.

"Libbie thinks perhaps her mother will send her, and just think what
fun we could have," wrote Bobby, referring to the Vermont cousin.

Betty dismissed the school question lightly from her mind. She would
certainly enjoy going to school with the Littell girls, and boarding
school was one of her day-dreams, as it is of most girls her age.
After she had seen her uncle and spent some time with him--he was
very dear to her, was this Uncle Dick--she thought she might be
ready to go back East and take up unceremoniously. But there was the
subject of the probable cost--something that never bothered the
Littell girls. Betty knew nothing of her uncle's finances, beyond the
fact that he had been very generous with her, sending her checks
frequently and never stinting her by word or suggestion. Still,
boarding school, especially a school selected by the Littells, would
undoubtedly be expensive. Betty wisely decided to let the matter drop
for the time being.

Sage brush and prairie was now left behind, and the train was
rattling through a heavy forest. Betty was glad that the rather nippy
breeze had apparently kept every one else indoors, or else the
monotony of a long train journey. The platform continued to be
deserted, and, wondering what delayed Bob, she took up the camera to
try again for a picture of the receding track. She and Bob had used
up perhaps half a dozen films on this one subject, and the gleaming
point where the rails came together in the distance had an
inexhaustible fascination for the girl.

"How it does blow!" she gasped. "I remember now when we stopped at
that water-station Bob spoke of--I didn't notice it at the time, I
was so busy thinking, but the breeze didn't die down with the motion
of the train. I shouldn't wonder if there was a strong wind to-day."

As a matter of fact, there was a gale, but Betty, accustomed to the
wind from the back platform of a train in motion, thought that it
could be nothing unusual. To be sure, the branches of the tall trees
were crashing about and the sky over the