The Angel of the Gila Part 54

"'Ere!" she said. "Wrap 'er in this 'ere warm shawl."

Wathemah ran after them, asking anxiously:

"Me teacher sick?"

"Yes, very sick, Wathemah," answered Clayton.

Just as they reached the Clayton home, Esther roused, and said in a dazed way:

"Where am I?"

"You are at home," answered her host, as he carried her into the house. "Do you feel better?" he asked, as he laid her on the couch.

"What has happened?" she asked, showing no sign of recognition.

"We don't know," said Mrs. Clayton, bending over her.

She moaned.

"Don't you remember the Indian who came to the schoolhouse?"

questioned Mr. Clayton anxiously.

"Indian? Schoolhouse?" she repeated in a perplexed way. "Where am I?"

"Here with Mrs. Clayton," said her hostess.

"Mrs. Clayton? Who is _she_?" asked Esther, vacantly.

The group about her exchanged troubled glances.

John Harding was already on his way to the railway station to telegraph for Dr. Mish.e.l.l.

Kenneth Hastings, now conscious, was lying on a bed in the Clayton home. John Clayton bent over him, staunching the blood the best he could. In the midst of this, they heard a sharp cry from Esther.

"What is it?" questioned Kenneth.

"Miss Bright!" exclaimed John Clayton, starting towards the room where the teacher and his wife were. Returning, he explained that Esther had apparently sprained her ankle, for it was badly swollen, and probably very painful, when Mrs. Clayton attempted to remove her shoe.

Kenneth made no response, but, for a while, lay with eyes closed. He started when John Clayton told him that, as yet, Esther had not recognized any of the family.

It was a long and anxious night for the ones who watched. In the morning, when Esther wakened, she called her companion by name.

"Carla," she said, "I dreamed something dreadful had happened."

As she spoke, she attempted to rise. A twinge of pain in her foot stopped her.

"What has happened?" she asked.

"You sprained your ankle yesterday," Carla explained.

"Yesterday?" she repeated, in a puzzled way, as if trying to think of something. "Strange, but I can't recall yesterday."

"Dr. Mish.e.l.l is coming to look at your ankle soon."

"Dr. Mish.e.l.l! Dr. Mish.e.l.l!" Esther said, slowly. Then a light came into her face. "Oh, yes! Now I remember. He came to Gila to see our sick people once, didn't he? I must dress so as to make the rounds with him."

So saying, she started again to rise, but sank back with a pale face.

"My foot, and head, and throat are so painful. It's so queer. I feel ill, too. What has happened?" she asked again.

"You were injured, somehow," explained Carla, "and were unconscious, when found. Mr. Hastings was unconscious, too."

"Mr. Hastings? Is he here?"

"Yes."

"And sick?"

"Very. Dr. Mish.e.l.l and Sister Mercy, the Catholic sister, are with him now."

"I must help take care of Mr. Hastings, Carla."

"By and by, perhaps," said the girl, soothingly. "You must get well yourself first."

Kenneth Hastings' condition proved to be more serious than they thought, and Dr. Mish.e.l.l looked grave. He had removed the bullet, and Sister Mercy had a.s.sisted him. When at last the wound was dressed, Dr.

Mish.e.l.l visited the other patient. He examined her ankle, and p.r.o.nounced it a bad sprain. He examined her head, and looking towards Mrs. Clayton, said:

"It is as you surmised, concussion. Probably due to a fall."

He gave a few directions to Sister Mercy, and after a few gruff, but kindly, words, departed, to look after his other patients in Gila.

Now, Carla Earle began her career as a nurse, and soon her ministrations were known in every house, and shack, where fever had entered.

After Esther learned the details of her rescue, and of how Kenneth Hastings had again risked his life for hers, she grew abstracted, talked little, and ate less. And after she had learned that he was critically ill, delirious, as a result of the wound received in rescuing her, her sorrow became patent to all. Could she not see him?

But Sister Mercy guarded her patient, and watched, and prayed the prayers of her church. Physician and nurse both knew that Kenneth's life hung by a thread. The sick man talked in his delirium; and his heart story lodged in the heart of the nurse, who watched by him, and who nursed him back to life.

When Esther was able to go about on crutches, she visited her patients who were nearest to Clayton Ranch. One day Patrick Murphy called on her.

"How are Brigham and Kathleen?" she asked, as she greeted him. "I hope they are better."

"No betther, Miss," he said, struggling for composure. "The docther has been lavin' av his midicine, an' Carla (I mean Miss Earle) has came each day (the saints bliss her!) but still the faver is bad. An'

Brigham--"

He could say no more. After a while, he continued:

"An' Brigham begs me ter bring yez to him. He insists upon callin' yez his Christ teacher, ma'am. He asks ivery day has yez come, an' cries wid disappointmint, whin he foinds yez are not there. I told him I would bring yez back wid me if yez could come."

"I'll go with you," she promised, "as soon as I speak to Mrs.