"I
believe I've struck it!"

"Struck what?" demanded her puzzled chum.

"'Great oaks from little acorns grow' sure enough! Eureka! I have it,"
Ruth cried. "I believe I know how we all--every girl in Briarwood--can
help earn the money to rebuild the West Dormitory."

CHAPTER XIII

THE IDEA IS BORN

"What? What? _What_?" Helen cried, as she gazed, wide-eyed, at the check
and at Mr. Hammond's letter.

The check for twenty-five dollars there could be no mistake about; and she
scanned the moving picture man's enthusiastic letter shortly, for it was
brief. But Helen quite misunderstood the well-spring of Ruth's sudden joy.

"Oh, Ruthie Fielding!" she gasped. "What have you done now?" and she
hugged her chum delightedly. "How wonderful! _That_ was the secret between
you and that Mr. Hammond, was it?"

"Yes," admitted Ruth.

"And you've written a _real_ moving picture?"

"That is it--exactly. A _one_ reel picture," and Ruth laughed.

"And he says he will produce it at once," sighed Helen.

"So Mr. Hammond says. It's very nice of him."

"Oh, Ruth!" cried Helen, hugging her again.

"Oh, Helen!" responded Ruth, in sheer delight.

"You're famous--really famous!" said Ruth's chum, with sudden solemnity.

Ruth's clear laughter rang out spontaneously.

"Well, you are!"

"Not yet."

"But you've earned twenty-five dollars writing that play. Only think of
that! And you can give it to the dormitory fund. Is that what you are so
pleased about? Mercy, Ruth! you don't expect us all to set about writing
picture plays and selling them to Mr. Hammond?"

"No," said Ruth, more seriously. "I guess that wouldn't do."

"Then what do you mean about every girl at Briarwood helping in this way
toward the fund?" Helen asked, puzzled. "At any rate, twenty-five dollars
will help."

"But I sha'n't do that!" cried Ruth.

"Sha'n't do what?"

"I shall not give this precious twenty-five dollars to any dormitory
fund--no, indeed!" and Ruth clasped the check to her bosom. "The first
money I ever earned with my pen? I guess not! That twenty-five dollars
goes into the bank, my dear."

"Goodness! You needn't be so emphatic about it," protested Helen.

"I am going to open a special account," said Ruth, proudly. "This will be
credited to the fact that R.F. can actually make something _with her
brains_, my lady. What do you think?"

"But how is it going to help the dormitory fund, then?" demanded her chum.

"Not by adding