The Angel of the Gila Part 15

"Oh, everythin', I guess."

The others had caught fragments of the conversation, and now joined in. Mike Maloney spoke first.

"Do yez think yez are a kid again, Jack, that yez are sthartin' wid book learnin'?"

"No, Mike, not a kid, but a dunce."

Before the teacher could protest, he continued:

"Ye'll find me an ignoramus, schoolma'am. A fellow out on the range, or in a minin' camp, don't git much schoolin'. But sometimes when ye're alone under the open sky, an' the stars come out, there's somethin' in here" (striking himself on the chest) "that is--is--unsatisfied. I want somethin'. I don't know what it is I want, but I believe you can help me find out."

Let those scoff who will; there is such a thing as divine unrest; and when this takes possession of a man, his evolution has begun.

John Harding went on with increasing earnestness.

"Yer see, schoolma'am, this not knowin' is awful. Y're not all a man should measure up to. Y're in prison like, hide bound. It's come ter me ter-night, all ter onct, that an ignoramus is in bondage, an' that only education can set him free."

The tide of his feeling gave him a rough eloquence. It was evident his words found a responsive echo in the other cowboys' hearts.

The teacher had listened with deepening interest. John Harding had set her a task,--the greatest task, nay, the greatest pleasure man or woman can know, of leading a human soul out of bondage into freedom.

One of the cowboys, Jimmie Smith by name, nudged Mike Maloney, and whispered:

"Ask her to learn us, too."

Mike readily a.s.sented.

"Would yez be willin' ter bother wid us too?"

"It would be no bother. I'd be glad to help you."

There was no doubting her sincerity.

In a few moments, the men were seated around the dining table, each with pencil and paper, and a lesson in penmans.h.i.+p had begun.

"Gos.h.!.+" said Jimmie. "Ef that don't look like the rail fences back in Indianny!"

As he said this, he held up to view the very best he could do after repeated efforts. He laughed uproariously at himself, the others joining from pure sympathy, for Jimmie's laugh was contagious.

But Mike worked as though entered for a race. He seemed to need an astonis.h.i.+ng amount of the teacher's attention, especially after she commended his work.

"Schoolma'am," he called out, beckoning to her with his dirty hand, "would yez be showin' me the nixt?"

She bent over him, naming principles, explaining slant and s.p.a.cing, as she made a group of letters.

"Stim letthers, did yez say? Stim? Stim?"

He held up his work and looked at it critically. "Manin' no disrespict to yez, schoolma'am, I'll jist call 'em, not stim letthers, but fince posts."

After the laughs and gibes had ceased, he listened to her a moment, and then remarked, "The stims should all be sthandin' the same way, did yez say?"

He grinned as he viewed his writing o'er. It was clear to him, even at that early stage of the work, that he was not cut out for an expert penman. Yet his last effort that evening he seemed to regard with special pride and satisfaction, and this is what the teacher found on his paper when she returned to observe his work:

kla.s.s jimme Smith mike maloney john harding bill weeks teecher the angle of the gila

Night after night, these cowboys gathered for an hour or more at the Clayton home for study with Esther Bright. Reading, and arithmetic, and talks on physical geography followed. The cowboys did not suspect it, but she was fighting the degrading influences of the saloon.

Days came and went. The interest in the night school increased; so did the interest in the Bible school. But for some indefinable reason, John Harding had not visited it.

One Sat.u.r.day morning, when Esther sought the schoolhouse to do some work there, he joined her, entered the building, and built a fire for her. While observing the decorations of the room, he saw on the walls the words, "G.o.d so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life."

He read and reread the words. What could it mean? He was ashamed to ask. At last his great dark eyes sought the teacher's face. She saw a question in them.

"What is it?" she asked.

"What does it mean?"

"What does what mean?"

"Them words,--'G.o.d so loved the world', an' so on."

"What don't you understand?"

"I don't understand none of it. Yer see, us fellers uses 'G.o.d' as a cuss-word. That's all I know 'bout G.o.d."

"Have you never read in the Bible about Jesus?"

"Bible? I ain't seen one sence I was a kid, 'n' I never read it then, 'n' ef G.o.d is a father 'n' anythin' like my stepfather, I reckon I don't care ter make his acquaintance."

"He is not like your stepfather, for Jesus never turns anyone away. He invites people to come to Him. Would you like to hear about this, John?"

"Yes, mum."

"Well, sit down and I'll tell you."

So they sat down near the desk. Then the woman of twenty-four told the Christ-story to the man of twenty-eight as to a little child. He listened intently, with the eagerness of a man in whom the pa.s.sion to know has just been born. The teacher's words thrilled her listener.

She pictured Jesus a child. Jesus a young man in Nazareth, working among his fellows, tempted, victorious; Jesus healing the sick and afflicted, mingling with sinful men, and freeing them from their bondage to sin. The expression of the man's face was indescribable. As she reached the story of the Crucifixion, he asked huskily:

"Why did G.o.d let the Jews kill him?"

"Many have asked that question. All we know about it is what the Bible tells us. I used to wonder if there could not have been some other way of salvation than through the suffering and death of Jesus."

Her look was far away, as of one thinking of things eternal. Again she read aloud:

"And while they abode in Galilee, Jesus said unto them, 'The Son of Man shall be betrayed into the hands of men, and they shall kill him, and the third day he shall be raised again.' And they were exceeding sorry."

"He knew it, then, that they would kill him?"