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s there were Great Thrones on earth, too, if one only searched far enough. Who knew that there were not? After all, Life was a search. She was beginning to realize that more every day. It meant a seeking after the best things. What were those best things, she wondered? Had she discovered the trail which, like the Milky Way, led to them? Friendship was one, she concluded--the real friendship which never demanded more than it was willing to give. And Service was another--the desire to help people over the hard, rocky places--to be a comrade, not just a spectator. Dorothy had discovered that. Then the Love of Beautiful Things must surely be a third--the love of books and pictures and of all the wonderful treasures of the out-of-doors. These were not all. There were others to be found far ahead, Virginia knew--treasures more wonderful than any yet discovered--if one searched and were worthy of finding them. At least she knew she had discovered the key which would open the gate to the trail. She felt of it upon her waist. To be "Ever Vigilant" would open the door. To be watchful of one's opportunities; never to scorn a chance to serve; to guard against the cheap and the unlovely in books and thoughts; to keep the windows of one's soul shining and clean, so that the light of all things beautiful might shine in. She held the little pin close in her hand. She and Priscilla and Dorothy and Mary and Vivian would keep to the trail together. Life was such a great, big thing she said to herself. Her breath sobbed in her throat at the thought. It was like a day in April--cloudy and sunny and wind-blown and rainy. She wanted her own life to be like that. Then she could understand the storms and clouds in other lives, and prove she was a comrade and not just an onlooker! The fire died down and she went for more wood. As she placed a big log on the glowing embers and turned away from the heat as it burst into flame, she saw that the fire on Sagebrush was rekindled also. She could discern a shadowy shape in the light of it. Donald, perhaps. He loved the night, too. She had forgotten Donald for the moment when she chose her comrades for the Long Trail, but he must go. She had followed trails with Donald all her life, and on this great journey she needed his comradeship more than ever. It was one o'clock, her little watch said--time to sleep. The great log with another added would last till morning. She rolled the second against
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