But when she returned with the log, Vivian's head had dropped upon the blankets, and the flames which leaped up a moment later showed her, to Virginia's joy, to be fast asleep. So the founder of the Vigilantes was the only one left to guard the fortunes of the camp. She took her station near the edge of the slope, a little distance from the fire, drew her blanket close around her, and began her vigil. There was so much to see and to think about! She was glad she felt wide-awake. Deep in the gorge below her, the river called with a thousand voices. Down in the valley the pine trees reared their heads--little spear points pricking the purple blackness of the night. The fire on Sagebrush sparkled like a single jewel in a vast setting. Far above and beyond the valley rose the opposite height, dark and indistinct--a bridge between two worlds. To Virginia she was like an eagle, secure in his nest on the topmost pinnacle of a cliff, and looking forth upon his domain. Now she turned her face upward toward the deep, almost transparent blue of the midnight sky. It was set with myriads of stars--great arc-lights, beacons at sea, flickering candle-flames. A star fell--it was one of the beacons--and came earthward, trailing glory in its wake. Then, the path blazed, another followed, and a third. The last was a little candle-flame, almost too tiny to find its way alone. The Milky Way was a great, golden trail across the sky. If souls traversed it on their way to the Great Throne, as she had believed when she was a little girl, they would have no difficulty to-night in finding their way. She traced its triumphant course across the heavens. It seemed to begin on earth, she thought to herself, and come back to earth again after its journey skyward. That might break in pieces her childhood dream. But perhaps there were Great Thrones on earth, too, if one only searched far enough. Who knew that there were not? After all, Life was a search. She was beginning to realize that more every day. It meant a seeking after the best things. What were those best things, she wondered? Had she discovered the trail which, like the Milky Way, led to them? Friendship was one, she concluded--the real friendship which never demanded more than it was willing to give. And Service was another--the desire to help people over the hard, rocky places--to be a comrade, not just a spectator. Dorothy had discovered that. Then the Love of Beautiful Things must surely be a third--the love of books and pictures and of all the wonderful treasures of the out-of-doors. These were not all. There were others to be found far ahead, Virginia knew--treasures more wonderful than any yet discovered--if one searched and were worthy of finding them.