ack hair; and around her throat on a chain the silver cross
which she had found in the sandalwood box hidden by old Laska.

Jean and Frieda in kimonos, with sashes about their waists, were
Japanese geisha girls, and found their costumes excessively inconvenient
in their efforts to help Ralph Merrit freeze the ice cream in the back
yard.

Olive and Jack were waiting for the party to begin, when Elizabeth
Harmon arrived early to say good-by to Jack alone, and Olive stole out
on the porch of the rancho to wait.

Frank Kent, in his evening clothes, coming from his tent across the
fields on his way into the house, spied Olive. Suddenly he remembered
the frightened, ignorant girl who had sought shelter at the Rainbow
Ranch less than a year before, and marveled at the change. He stopped
for a moment; and in the stiff English fashion, which no amount of
American experience would make him lose, said admiringly: "I say, Miss
Olive, you are looking awfully pretty to-night. I want to tell you how
glad I am that you have never had any more trouble from the Indian woman
and that things are now so jolly for you," and then he passed on indoors
to find Jack.

Ten minutes later Donald and Mrs. Harmon found Olive still on the porch
ready to receive them. Mrs. Harmon took Olive's hand and then dropped it
and stared at her curiously. The image of a half-forgotten face came
back to her; somewhere in her past had she not seen a girl who looked
like this Olive Ralston? Yet when and where had she seen her?

"Olive," Mrs. Harmon questioned, for a moment losing her reserve and
caution, "have you any Spanish or Italian ancestors? I have no right to
be curious about you, but you are so unlike the other ranch girls, and I
remember Jack said you were only an adopted sister."

Olive shook her head; but she looked straight at the older woman and
there was something in her timid, appealing gaze that gave another pull
to the chords of memory.

"I don't know anything about my people, Mrs. Harmon," Olive answered
with quiet dignity. "Since you seem interested to know, I was brought up
by an old Indian woman and her son, until Jack and the other girls found
me and brought me home to live with them. I don't even know my own
name."

A hundred questions came to Mrs. Harmon's mind and almost forced
themselves from her lips, but she was resolutely silent. Why should she
care to know more of this stray girl's past history; what could it mean
to her? If