y on a house party. I am afraid we don't even
understand just what we ought to have. Father did not know much about
girls' things and we have never had any one else to tell us, and besides
I don't think your niece would like to have an Indian girl for her
guest. Olilie is awfully shy, and I don't expect she would know how to
behave."

Mrs. Simpson gave Jack a little shake.

"Nonsense, Jacqueline Ralston, what perfect foolishness you are talking!
When did you begin to worry about clothes? You know that you and Jean
are belles wherever you are. As for Laura, I am sure she will be glad
enough to have the Indian girl and I'll look after the child. I want to
study her. If she is a regular Indian, she would probably be hard to
manage."

Laura shrugged her pretty shoulders. "Oh yes, please do bring the Indian
maiden with you," she remarked with an innocent, babyish expression that
fooled her Aunt but not her visitors. "I am sure the Indian can't be any
queerer than the other people one meets out West."

CHAPTER VI.

THE ARRIVAL AT THE HOUSE PARTY.

"I CAN'T call you Olilie, it is too long and too funny a name," Frieda
announced.

The four girls were being driven over to the Simpson ranch in a big
wagon, which was used in the spring as one of the mess-wagons at the
round-up, when the cowboys brought in the stock to be branded.

Jack sat on the driver's seat with Jim; Frieda, Jean and Olilie were on
piles of straw in the back. There was a big, rusty valise between them
which contained the entire wardrobe of the four members of the house
party from Rainbow Ranch.

Jean and Jack had even fewer costumes than usual, for they had divided
their belongings with the Indian girl, and the valise was the very same
one that Mr. Ralston had brought across the prairies with him fourteen
years before. It had never dawned on the girls that it was shabby and
old-fashioned looking, as they had never traveled more than a few miles
from the ranch and knew nothing of stylish suit cases and leather
hand-bags.

Jack screwed her head around at Frieda's words: "I wonder if you would
mind our calling you Olive, instead of Olilie," she suggested. "It is
ever so much easier to say, and I have always thought Olive a perfectly
beautiful name. Besides you seem like a wild olive, you are so pretty
and Spanish-looking." Jack spoke carelessly, not dreaming that the
young, captive girl had conceived the deepest devotion to her. Olilie
was gr