, that
Ann often was glad it was dark in the room. The western girl considered it
"soft" to weep, but Ruth's singing brought the tears to her eyes.

Mercy Curtis even gave up her beloved books during the hour of these
informal concerts. Other times she would have railed because she could not
study. Mercy was as hungry for lessons as Heavy Stone was for layer-cake
and macaroons.

"That's all that's left me," croaked the lame girl, when she was in one of
her most difficult moods. "I'll learn all there is to be learned. I'll
stuff my head full. Then, when other girls laugh at my crooked back and
weak legs, I'll shame 'em by knowing more out of books."

"Oh, what a mean way to put it!" gasped Helen.

"I don't care, Miss! You never had your back ache you and your legs go
wabbly--No person with a bad back and such aches and pains as I have, was
ever good-natured!"

"Think of Aunt Alvirah," murmured Ruth, gently.

"Oh, well--she isn't just human!" gasped the lame girl.

"She is very human, I think," Ruth returned.

"No. She's an angel. And no angel was ever called 'Curtis,'" declared the
other, her eyes snapping.

"But I believe there must be an angel somewhere named 'Mercy,'" Ruth
responded, still softly.

However, it was understood that Mercy was aiming to be the crack scholar
of her class. There was a scholarship to be won, and Mercy hoped to get it
and to go to college two years later.

Even Jennie Stone declared she was going in for "extras."

"What, pray?" scoffed The Fox. "All your spare time is taken up in eating
now, Miss."

"All right. I'll go in for the heavyweight championship at table,"
declared the plump girl, good-naturedly. "At least, the result will
doubtless be visible."

Ann began to wonder what she was studying for. All these other girls
seemed to have some particular object. Was she going to school without any
real reason for it?

Uncle Bill would be proud of her, of course. She practised assiduously to
perfect her piano playing. That was something that would show out in
Bullhide and on the ranch. Uncle Bill would crow over her playing just as
he did over her bareback riding.

But Ann was not entirely satisfied with these thoughts. Nor was she
contented with the fact that she had begun to make her mates respect her.
There was something lacking.

She had half a mind to refuse Belle Tingley's invitation to Cliff Island.
In her heart Ann believed she was included in the party because Bel