Meg had reached the stairway hewn in the rocks, leading to the cabin, which, for so many minutes had been uppermost in her thoughts, and she drew rein, yodeling to a tall, graceful girl whom she saw standing by a pine gazing out over the valley. Jane Abbott turned and looked down, amazed that the mountain girl should have the effrontery to yodel to _her_. "Just because she mailed a letter for me does not entitle her to _my_ friendship as an equal!" Abruptly Jane turned her back and walked away toward the cabin. Meg's face flushed and her inclination was to ride on to her own home, but she recalled the clinging of little Julie's arms and the sweet, yearning expression in the small girl's face when she had said, "Meg, I like you. I wish you were my sister instead of Jane. You'd love me, wouldn't you?" Leaping from her pony, she bade him wait for her, and, taking the paper, the girl sprang, nimble as a mountain goat, up the rocky steps. Jane had seated herself in the comfortable chair on the porch, and was reading when she heard hurrying footsteps. She looked up, an angry color suffusing her cheeks. This halfbreed was evidently going to force her acquaintance upon her. Well, she would soon regret it. But the proud, scornful words were never spoken. CHAPTER XXI. MEG AS BENEFACTRESS Dan and the children had gone on a hike, and Jane, being quite alone, rose and confronted the mountain girl with a cold stare that would have caused Meg at another time to have whirled about and departed, but for the sake of the other three she was willing to be treated unkindly. "Miss Abbott," she said, holding out the newspaper, and pretending not to notice the unfriendly expression, "there is news in here which may be of great importance to you. May I show it to your brother?" Suddenly Jane found herself trembling from some unnamed fear. Instantly she had thought of the taxes. Perhaps, without really being conscious of it, she had read the word somewhere on that outheld paper. She sank back into her chair, saying, almost breathlessly, "Dan isn't here. What is it, Miss Heger? Is something wrong?" The mountain girl pointed to the paragraph and was amazed at the effect the reading of it had upon the proud girl. There was an expression of terror in the dark eyes that were lifted. "Oh, what shall I do? What shall I do?" she implored helplessly. "Our father gave us the money. He told us the taxes must be paid, but I thought another two weeks would do as well as now. Dan did not know the need of haste." Meg, seeing that the girl, unused to deciding matters of importance, was more helpless than even Julie would have been, felt a sudden compassion for her and so she said: "If you can get the money to the county seat before five o'clock you will not lose your property."