before she went East, she might
become a more worthy Vigilante. At all events she would begin once more.
Perhaps, after all, she concluded, as she ran to the creek-refrigerator
after the butter and cream--perhaps after all, life was just a series of
beginnings--again--each one a wee bit farther on!

Dinner was the jolliest meal imaginable. They ate and laughed--laughed and
ate. Everything was delicious--the trout caught in the creek and fried to
a rich brown, the baked potatoes, the fresh biscuits, the lettuce and
radishes from the garden, and the custard pudding. Jean MacDonald with all
her other accomplishments was a famous cook. That was self-evident.

After dinner they went out upon the porch, gazed across the mesa bluer
than ever in the afternoon haze, and talked. Jean longed to know about
school, and they told her of St. Helen's, of Miss King, and Miss Wallace,
of the dear funny Blackmores, and of poor tactless Miss Green. Tears ran
down Jean's face as Virginia told of Katrina Van Rensaelar and the deluge
she never received, and of how Priscilla had given the German measles to
the boys at the Gordon School.

Then Mary begged to know something about homesteading, and Jean told of
how she had come to Wyoming. Her far-off neighbors in the other corner of
the mesa had been friends in Montana, she said, and it was they who had
encouraged her to come and take up an opposite claim. She explained how
the land would become her own after she had lived upon it seven months
each year for three years; how each year she must plow and fence so many
acres; and how at the end of that time she could sell the land at a good
price, or else stay and improve it further.

"And which will you do?" asked the interested Mary while the others
listened. "Will you stay or go away after it is yours?"

She would go away for a while, she told them, and rent her land. Her
neighbors yonder would be glad to hire it. She was going to college. Her
eyes glowed with enthusiasm as she dreamed her dream for them. Since her
graduation from High School she had taught in country schools until she
had saved money enough to pay for her improvements on the homestead.
Everything was paid for--the cabin (she had made most of the furniture
herself), the fencing, the plowing, her stock--everything; and there was
money enough left for fall planting, a new barn, and some sheep, and the
autumn expenses. In December, perhaps, she would leave and earn some more
mon