Produced by Al Haines. _THE GIRLS_ _OF_ _SILVER SPUR RANCH_ BY GRACE MACGOWAN COOKE AND ANNE MCQUEEN THE GOLDSMITH PUBLISHING COMPANY _Chicago_ MANUFACTURED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA *LIST OF CHAPTERS* I. A Question of Names II. Roy Rides to Silver Spur III. A Package and a Leather-Brown Phaeton IV. A Jewel of Great Price V. The Silver Spur Bakery VI. A Shiny Black Box VII. The Wire Cutter VIII. A Partner of the Sun IX. The Rose by Another Name _*THE GIRLS OF*_* *_*SILVER SPUR RANCH*_ *CHAPTER I* *A Question of Names* The girls of Silver Spur ranch were all very busy helping Mary, the eldest, with her wedding sewing. Silver Spur was rather a pretentious name for John Spooner’s little Texas cattle-farm, but Elizabeth, the second daughter, who had an ear attuned to sweet sounds, had chosen it; as a further confirmation of the fact she had covered an old spur with silver-leaf and hung it over the doorway. The neighboring ranchers had laughed, at first, and old Jonah Bean, the one cowboy left in charge of the small Spooner herd, always sniffed scornfully when he had occasion to mention the name of his ranch, declaring that The Tin Spoon would suit it much better. However, in time everybody became used to it, and Silver Spur the ranch remained--somehow Elizabeth always had her own way. This young lady sat by the window in the little living-room where they were all at work, and carefully embroidered a big and corpulent "B" on a sofa-pillow for Mary, who was to marry, in a few days, a young man from another state who owned the euphonious name of Bellamy--a name Elizabeth openly envied him. "I do think Spooner is such a horrid, commonplace sort of name," she declared with emphatic disapproval. "Aren’t you glad you’ll soon be rid of it, Mary?" "Um-m," murmured Mary, paying scant heed to Elizabeth’s query; she was hemming a ruffle to trim the little muslin frock which was the last unfinished garment of her trousseau, and she was too busy for argument. "As if," continued Elizabeth, "the name wasn’t odious enough, father must needs go and choose a _spoon_ for his brand! And he might so easily have made it a _fleur-de-lys_--fairly rubbing it in, as if it was something to be proud of!" Just then Mary, finding that the machine needle kept jabbing in one place, looked about for a cause, and perceived Elizabeth tranquilly rocking upon one of the unhemmed breadths of her ruffle.