e
were right there with me, her own self, and understood everything. I've
never told you before, but there were a good many times when things went
all wrong for me. There were some days when it seemed to me that I
didn't want to try to be a pioneer. I wanted to pull up stakes and run
away. I sha'n't feel that way this year. It will be so different. I'll
walk into Madison Hall and be at home there from the start. I'll have
friends there to welcome----"

Jane's confidences were suddenly interrupted by the appearance of Pedro,
the groom, leading Donabar, Mr. Allen's horse, along the drive.

"I've got to leave you, girl." Mr. Allen rose. "I've an appointment with
Gleason, to look at some cattle he wants to sell me. I'll see you at
dinner to-night. Probably not before then."

With a hasty kiss, dropped on the top of Jane's curly head, her father
strode across the lawn to his horse. Swinging into the saddle, he was
off down the drive, turning only to wave farewell to the white-clad girl
on the beach. Left alone, Jane turned her attention to her letters.

Those who have read "JANE ALLEN OF THE SUB-TEAM" will remember how
bitterly Jane Allen resented leaving her beautiful Western home to go
East to Wellington College. Brought up on a ranch, Jane had known few
girls of her own age. To be thus sent away from all she loved best and
forced to endure the restrictions of a girls' college was a cross which
proud Jane carried during the early part of her freshman year at
Wellington.

Gradually growing to like the girls she had formerly despised, Jane
found friends, tried and true. Being a person of strong character she
also made enemies, among them arrogant, snobbish Marian Seaton, a
freshman of narrow soul and small honor.

Due to her interest in basket-ball, Jane soon found herself fighting
hard to win a position on the freshman team. She also found herself
engaged in a desperate struggle to rule her own rebellious spirit. How
she won the right to play in the deciding game of the year, because of
her high resolve to be true to herself, has already been recorded in her
doings as a freshman at Wellington College.

"You first, Judy," murmured Jane, as she tore open the envelope
containing Judith's letter and eagerly drew it forth.

She smiled as she unfolded the one closely written sheet of thin, gray
paper. Judith never wrote at length. The smile deepened as she read:

"DEAR OLD JANE:

"It's about time I answered