"No," said Ruth, more seriously. "I guess that wouldn't do."
"Then what do you mean about every girl at Briarwood helping in this way toward the fund?" Helen asked, puzzled. "At any rate, twenty-five dollars will help."
"But I sha'n't do that!" cried Ruth.
"Sha'n't do what?"
"I shall not give this precious twenty-five dollars to any dormitory fund—no, indeed!" and Ruth clasped the check to her bosom. "The first money I ever earned with my pen? I guess not! That twenty-five dollars goes into the bank, my dear."
"Goodness! You needn't be so emphatic about it," protested Helen.
"I am going to open a special account," said Ruth, proudly. "This will be credited to the fact that R.F. can actually make something with her brains, my lady. What do you think?"
"But how is it going to help the dormitory fund, then?" demanded her chum.
"Not by adding my poor little twenty-five dollars to it. We want hundreds—thousands! Don't you understand, Helen, that my check would only be a drop in the bucket? And, anyway, I would come near to starving before I would use this check."
"We—ell! I don't know that I blame you," sighed her friend. "I'd be as pleased as Punch if it were mine. Just think of your writing a real moving picture!" she repeated. "Won't the girls be surprised? And suppose it comes to Lumberton and we can all go and see it? You will be famous, Ruth."