There were at least a dozen young people, the sons and daughters of the most prosperous ranchmen in that part of Wyoming, scattered all about the front of the Simpson ranch house when the girls drove up in their old wagon. An automobile stood in front of the door, for Mr. Simpson was an up-to-date cattleman and rode around his vast place in a sixty horse-power machine, instead of on the back of a shaggy broncho. "Hurrah for the Ranch Girls of Rainbow Lodge!" some one shouted. Jack and Jean and Frieda waved their hands, but Olive was too frightened to stir. The girls tumbled out of the wagon one over the other, trying to speak to all their friends at once. People did not see each other every day out West as they do in smaller places, and a house party like Mrs. Simpson's was a notable event. Frieda kept tight hold on Olive, knowing that she was feeling shy and the little girl was glad to have a companion herself, as most of the other young people were older. Mrs. Simpson stared curiously at her unknown visitor. Then she patted her kindly. "Laura does not see that you have come," she explained to the little group. Jack and Jean glanced up at one end of the long veranda. Laura could plainly see their arrival. But she made no effort to welcome them. She was talking to two boys. "Children, perhaps I ought to have told you," Mrs. Simpson whispered, "I simply had to invite Dan Norton and his guest to our house party, for Laura likes Dan better than any one she has met in the neighborhood. And I don't approve of you girls carrying on an old feud simply because your father and Dan's were enemies." Jack had her head in the air and her cheeks were scarlet. Jean openly rebelled: "You ought to have told us, Aunt Sallie, you know we have a perfect right to hate those Nortons," she murmured. "Of course we will be as polite as we know how," Jacqueline agreed. But, Mrs. Simpson frowned; she knew Jack's high temper and she feared there would be a clash between her and Dan before the house party was over. "How do you do, Miss Ralston, and Miss Bruce and Frieda," Laura Post said frigidly, holding her hand so high up in the air to shake hands that it almost touched her nose. "I suppose you know Mr. Norton and his guest, Mr. Kent." Laura had not paid the least attention to the existence of the Indian girl. Olilie might have been a wooden image. Jack bowed coldly as though she were speaking to perfect strangers. But Jean's brown eyes laughed and Frieda held out her hand innocently to Frank Kent: "I am awfully glad to see you again," she said. "See, things are quite all right so far. We still have our new friend with us." Jack could not help flashing a grateful look at Frank Kent. He came over at once and bowed in his best English fashion to Olive, and then stood by her while the others were talking.