ade a little
investment in oil this summer--and now we're back to where we were the
year of the drought. So it's back to the soil for mine, to the sagebrush
and the pump in the dooryard, and maybe teaching in the little one-story
schoolhouse in between chores. I knew my dream of college was too sweet
to be true."

"Oh, Katherine," cried Hinpoha in dismay, "you _must_ go to
college, it would be a terrible pity if you couldn't."

"Kindly omit flowers," said Katherine brusquely.

"My dear child," said Mr. Evans quickly, "I will gladly advance the sum
needed for your education. You may regard it as a loan if you will"--for
Katherine's chin had suddenly squared itself at the beginning of his
speech--"but I would consider the pleasure all mine."

"You are very kind," said Katherine huskily, "but I couldn't do it. You
see, my mother's health has broken down from the years of hard work and
this sudden trouble, and dad's thoroughly discouraged, and they need me
on the job to put life into them and keep the farm going."

Gratefully but firmly she refused all their offers of help. She was the
calmest one in the group, but the white lines around her mouth and the
drooping slant to her shoulders told what a disappointment she had
suffered.

"Will you have to go home right away?" asked Gladys in a tragic voice.

"No," said Katherine. "The folks aren't home yet and won't be for three
weeks. So I can stay here as long as the rest of you do and when you go
East I shall go West."

She made her plans calmly and frowned on all demonstrations of sympathy.
Hinpoha found her after supper sitting on the Council Rock watching the
sunset, and creeping up behind her slipped her arms around her neck.
"Poor old K!" she whispered caressingly.

Katherine shook herself free from Hinpoha's embrace. "Don't act tragic,"
she said crossly. "And don't cry down the back of my neck. It gives me
the fidgets." And rebuffed, Hinpoha crept away.

The same thing happened to the other girls who tried to console her. It
was hard to find a way to show their sympathy. She didn't weep, she
didn't bewail her lot, she didn't cast a gloom over the company by
making a long face. Katherine in trouble seemed suddenly older,
stronger, more experienced in life than the others. They felt somehow
young and childish before her and stood abashed. Yet their hearts ached
for her because they knew that beneath her outward scorn of weakness she
was suffering anguish of spi