Comrade had carefully wended his way down the mountain trail and had carried his young mistress, who was deeply absorbed in thought, across the dry creek, under a clump of cottonwood trees and up the steep farther bank before the girl looked about her with eyes that saw. Her brother was galloping toward her. “Ho, Virginia!” he hailed as he waved his wide sombrero. “Did your Inspiration Peak help you to solve our problem? What are we to do with our ward?” The girl flashed a smile at the lad, whose frank, bronzed face resembled her own, for, though he was two years her senior, twins could not have been more alike or dearer to each other. “If only we knew what type of a girl this Margaret is,” his sister replied as he wheeled his horse about and rode by her side, “we could so much more easily decide upon a plan. I did indeed receive an inspiration, but one hard to carry out I fear. I have been wishing that in some way we might become acquainted with our ward without having her know who we are.” “You are right, sister,” Malcolm said seriously. “I do not wish to invite this unknown girl to share our home unless I am convinced that your life will be made happier by the companionship. Our father would not wish it otherwise. Now tell me your plan.” Virginia looked at her brother with unexpected laughter in her violet-blue eyes. “It is one by which we could become acquainted with our ward without revealing to her our true identity. Harken and you shall hear.” Malcolm’s hearty laughter rang out when the half serious, half merry plan had been told. “If only we can persuade Uncle Tex to play the role of elderly guardian,” he exclaimed. “I am sure that your little drama, when staged, will bring about the desired results, but, knowing our faithful old overseer as well as I do, I fear that we may have a tragedy, or a comedy, which perhaps would be equally disastrous.” Virginia’s amused expression had changed to one of serious concern. “Brother,” she said, “if we do carry out my plan, will it be quite honest to Margaret?” “Not right in the beginning I must confess,” Malcolm replied, “but, of course, we will at once tell her the truth, if, after meeting her, we decided to invite her to become one of our household, but, on the contrary, if we find that she would not wish to share our home, she would, of course, return to the school where she has been for so many years. We will at least have tried to do our duty as we see it.” “Then shall I write the letter?” the violet eyes turned questioningly. “Yes, that will be the prologue to the little drama. Rusty Pete is going to Silver Creek Junction this afternoon and he will start the message on its eastward journey.”