"This doesn't look much like our storehouse, does it?" Jean paused in her task, and, seating herself upon the summit of a step-ladder, scrutinized with satisfaction the transformation wrought by a myriad of college flags, sofa cushions, colored shawls, and bunting. Roberta Keap dropped her hammer with an exclamation of pain. "Ouch!" she cried, "I've hurt my thumb. I can't hit where I look when people are talking." "Why don't you pin them up?" queried Miss Blake, sweetly. "A hammer is so dangerous." Mrs. Keap mumbled something, but her enunciation was indistinct, owing to the fact that her thumb was in her mouth. Helen finished tying a bow of ribbon upon the leg of a stool, patted it into proper form, then said: "It looks cheerful." "And restful," added Jean. "I think a gymnasium should be restful, above all things," agreed Helen. "Most of them are so bare and strenuous-looking they give one a headache." She spied a Whiteley exerciser fastened against the wall, the one bit of gymnastic apparatus in the room. 'Oh, the puller!' she cried. "I mustn't forget the puller!" She selected a pink satin ribbon, and tied a chic bow upon one of the wooden handles. "There! We can let him in now." "Oh dear!" Jean descended from her precarious position and admitted, "I'm tired out." All that morning the three had labored, busily transforming the store-room into training-quarters for Speed, who had declared that such things were not only customary but necessary. To be sure, it adjoined the bunk-room, where the cowboys slept, and there were no gymnastic appliances to give it character, but it was the only space available, and what it lacked in horizontal bars, dumb-bells, and Indian clubs it more than compensated for by a cosey-corner, a window-seat, and many cushions. Speed had expressed his delight with the idea, and agreed to wait for a glimpse of it.