atha 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.

"Is