After they left the train, Colonel Hathaway and his granddaughter, Mary Louise stood silently upon the platform, their luggage beside them, and watched as the porters moved their their trunks from the baggage car. Then the train started, gathered speed, and went rumbling away. When the girl looked around she discovered that the primitive station was really the only barren spot in the landscape. This was no Western prairie country, but one of the oldest settled and most prosperous sections of a great state that had been one of the original thirteen to be represented by a star on our national banner. Chargrove might not be much of a railway station, as it was only eleven miles from a big city, but the country around it was exceedingly beautiful. This was their new home. . . .