"We soon saw that she was educated and refined, and--as you can see for yourself--she must have been remarkably beautiful before she got so disfigured. When the baby was born, she just took the little one into her poor, broken heart like it had been her own, until Sibyl hardly knew which was her own mother. When the girl was old enough for school, Myra begged Will and Nelly to let her teach the child. She was always sending for books and it was about that time that she sent for a violin. The girl took to music like a bird. And--well--that's the way Sibyl was raised. She's got all the education that the best of them have--even to French and Italian and German--and she's missed some things that the schools teach outside of their text-books. She has a library--given to her mostly by Myra, a book at a time--that represents the best of the world's best writers. You know what her music is. But, hell!"--the Ranger interrupted himself with an apologetic laugh--"I'm supposed to be talking about Myra Willard. I don't know as I'm so far off, either, because what Sibyl is--aside from her natural inheritance from Will and Nelly--Myra has made her.
"When Will was killed by those Mexican outlaws,--which is a story in itself,--Nelly sold the ranch to the Power Company, and bought an orange grove in Fairlands--which was the thing for her to do, as she and Myra could handle that sort of property, and the ranch had to go, anyway. Before Nelly died, she and I talked things over, and she put everything in Myra's hands, in trust for the girl. Later, Myra sold the grove and the house where you men live, now, and bought the little place next door--putting the rest of the money into gilt-edged securities in Sibyl's name; which insures the girl against want, for years to come. Sibyl helps out their income with her music. And that's the story, boys, except that they come up here into the mountains, every summer, to spend a month or so in the old home place."
"But do you think it is safe for those women to stay up there alone?" asked Aaron King.
Brian Oakley laughed. "Safe! You don't know Myra Willard! Sibyl, herself, can pick a squirrel out of the tallest pine in the mountains with her six-shooter. Will and I taught her all we knew, as she grew up. Besides, you see, I drop in every day or so, to see that they're all right." He laughed meaningly as he added,--to Conrad Lagrange for the artist's benefit,--"I'm going to tell them, though, that Sibyl must be careful how she goes dancing around these hills--now that she has such distinguished but irresponsible neighbors."