The Angel of the Gila Part 38

"I suppose you'd like to be chief orphan," suggested John Clayton.

Then the talk drifted to serious themes, until dinner was announced. A birthday cake with sixteen lighted candles, in the center of the table, was the signal for another fusillade of fun.

"Sixteen! sixteen!" said Kenneth Hastings. "I accused Miss Bright, to-day, of being fifty, and she a.s.sured me she was not so young as that."

"Sixteen! sweet sixteen!" said Lord Kelwin, bowing low.

She, in turn, bowed _her_ head.

"You see," she said, "our good prophet, Mrs. Clayton, cried out, and the shadow has turned backward on the dial of Ahaz."

"It is not so much the number of years we count on the dial, after all," spoke Mrs. Clayton, who had thus far listened smilingly to the others; "it is what we live into those years. And you have lived already a long life in your few years, dear friend."

"You are right," Kenneth rejoined. "Miss Bright has lived more years of service to her fellow men in the few months she has been in Gila, than I have lived in my thirty years." Then, half in jest, half in earnest, he continued, "I wish Miss Bright could have been my grandmother, then my mother, then my--" He halted in embarra.s.sment, as he saw a deep blush sweep over Esther's face.

"And then--" suggested Lord Kelwin, in a provoking tone--"and then?"

"I should like her for my _friend_."

"So say we all of us," rejoined John Clayton. Then observing Esther's face, he changed the drift of the conversation.

"How would you good people like to make up a party to go to Box Canyon sometime in the near future?"

"Delightful!" spoke several, simultaneously. And thereupon they began to describe for Esther the canyon and what she would see.

Before leaving the table, every winegla.s.s save one was filled with sherry. That gla.s.s was turned down. John Clayton rose and lifted his gla.s.s.

"Here's to our dear friend, Miss Bright. May she always be sixteen at heart, with her ideals of life as true and as sweet as they are now; may the cares of life sit lightly upon her; may she be given strength to do all that she will always seek out and find to do; may the love of the true of heart enfold her; may the Heavenly Father keep her in all her ways; may the shadow ever turn backward on the dial."

And lifting their gla.s.ses, they drank to this toast.

Ah, little did they realize how prophetic in some ways that toast would prove to be, nor how great was the work that lay before the lovely and fragile-looking girl. All were happy and light-hearted; at least, all save Carla Earle. She sat quiet and retiring, when her duties were over. Wathemah had found refuge in her lap, and his regular breathing a.s.sured her he was fast asleep. So the evening wore on. At last all the guests except Wathemah had departed. The fire burned low. And soon all were asleep in the quiet house.

CHAPTER XIV

THE GREAT TRANSFORMATION

John Harding seemed a new man. If ever man fought desperately the evil in his nature, he did. It would be foolish to say that he became a saint. Far from it. He was at all times very human.

All the years of his life, his deeper nature had been lying fallow. No one had ever cared enough about him to suspect or discover its richness. Now some one had found him who did care, and who knew instinctively what lay below the forbidding exterior.

He sought Esther Bright with all sorts of questions, many of them questions a child might have asked (for he was but a child as yet in knowledge of many things); and she poured out the richness of her own knowledge, the inspiration of her transcendent faith, until the man roused from a long sleep, and began to grapple with great questions of life. He read, he thought, and he questioned.

Sometimes, when long away from Esther's influence, he yielded to the temptations of the saloon again, and drank heavily. On one of these occasions, he chanced to cross her path as he came staggering from a saloon. He tried to avoid her, but failed.

"Oh, Jack," she said, laying her hand on his arm, "is this what Jesus would have you do? Come home."

"'Taint no use," he answered, in a drunken drawl, "no use. I ain't n.o.body; never was n.o.body. Let me be, I say. n.o.body cares a blank for me." He threw an arm out impatiently.

"'Sh!" she interrupted. "Jesus cares. Mr. and Mrs. Clayton care. I care. Miss Edith cares. Come home with me, John."

So saying, she led him on to the Clayton ranch.

After a field has lain fallow many years, it must be turned and overturned again, in order to yield an abundant harvest. So it is with a soul.

John Harding's soul was slowly but surely being prepared to receive the seeds of truth. There were days when it seemed as though a demon possessed him. Then he would mysteriously disappear, and be gone for days. He always returned worn and haggard, but gentle. Then he would seek Esther Bright, and say simply:

"I have conquered!"

He seemed to know intuitively that she never lost faith in him. He felt certain that he would yet become what she wished him to be,--a true man. And this conviction made every battle with himself less terrible. At last he knew that the good in him was master.

All this did not come about at once. Months pa.s.sed before he knew that he could feel sure of his victory.

In the meantime, the church service had become established in Gila.

Esther Bright preached with deepening spiritual power. The cowla.s.ses now attended regularly. Other women, too, had come. Miners, dirt begrimed, had astonished their cronies by coming to hear the teacher talk. Even men from the charcoal pits and burro camps found their way to the crowded room.

One Sunday, the atmosphere of the meeting was so remarkable it still stands out in the memory of many a Gilaite of those early days.

Esther Bright had preached on the Healing of the Lepers. She had told them of the disease of leprosy, its loathsomeness, its hopelessness.

Then she vividly pictured the ten lepers, the approach of Christ, and their marvelous restoration. She showed them sin, its power to degrade men and women, and to weaken the will. She urged the need of G.o.d's help, and the necessity for each one to put forth his will power. Her low, earnest, heart-searching voice seemed to move many in that audience. Again and again rough hands brushed away tears they were ashamed for others to see. Ah, could there be help for them! Could there!

The speaker seemed filled with a power outside of herself, a power that was appealing to the consciences of men.

Kenneth Hastings, caught in this great spiritual tide, was swept from his moorings, out, out, on and away from self, G.o.dward. He rose and spoke with deep feeling. Then some one sang the first stanza of "Where are the Nine?" The singing ceased. The Spirit of G.o.d seemed brooding over all. The pregnant silence was followed by a succession of marvels. A Scotch miner rose and said:

"I am a sinner. Jesus, Maister, hae mercy on _me_."

Then voice after voice was heard confessing sin and praying for mercy.

At the close of the service, there were many touching scenes as men and women long hardened and burdened, came to this young girl for words of hope and encouragement.

If ever human being was an instrument in the hands of G.o.d, Esther Bright was that day.

The attendance at the meetings increased so that the schoolhouse could no longer accommodate the people. It was still too cool to hold out-of-door meetings. In the midst of Esther's perplexity, she received a call from one of the saloon keepers.

"I 'ave been attending the meetings," he said, "and see that you need a larger room. I 'ave come to offer you my saloon."

"Your saloon, Mr. Keith?" she said, aghast.

"Yes," he replied, "my saloon! I'm one of the lepers ye told about the other day. I 'ave decided to give up the saloon business."

This was beyond Esther's wildest dreams.

"You have decided to give up the saloon?" she said, overjoyed. "I am so glad! But how will you make your living?"