The Angel of the Gila Part 63

They were a merry party that day. All were in fine spirits. In the midst of their talk and laughter, the telephone rang.

"Some one for you, Esther," said Kenneth, returning to the veranda.

On her return, he looked up questioningly.

"The superintendent of education wishes me to give an address before the teachers at Tucson next month," she said, quietly.

"And will you do it?" asked Wathemah.

"Do it?" echoed Kenneth. "Of course she'll do it! She doesn't know how to say 'no.'"

Esther smiled indulgently.

"You see, Wathemah, the needs of the new country are great. They would not invite me to lecture so frequently, if they had enough workers. To me, the opportunity to help means obligation to help."

"Our Mother Esther has just returned from a conference at Washington, and another in Montana," said Kenneth, "and here she is going off again. The truth is she has become an educational and moral force in the Southwest."

"We are glad to share her with all who need her," said Carla, simply.

"Yes, lad," added Kenneth, rising, "we are glad she has the power to help."

The next morning, they were awakened early by John Harding, calling Wathemah to let him in. Such a meeting as that was! Jack did not seem to know how to behave. The little unkempt lad, untutored, and undisciplined, whom he had known and loved, was gone; and in his place, stood a lithe, graceful, really elegant young man. Jack stood back abashed. _His_ Wathemah, his little Wathemah, was gone. Something got in his throat. He turned aside, and brushed his hand across his cheek. But Wathemah slipped his arm around his neck, and together they tramped off up the mountain for a visit. Then Jack knew that his boy had really come back to him, but developed and disciplined into a man of character and force.

That was a gala day for Jack Harding and the Hastings household. No one had ever seen Jack so happy before.

Late that afternoon all stood on the veranda.

"My little kid," said Jack, laying his hand on Wathemah's shoulder, "I've worked fur ye, prayed fur ye, all the years. And now you've come, now you've come," he kept saying, over and over.

"Say, Jack," said Wathemah, "do you remember the time you found me asleep up the canyon, and took up a collection to send me East with Mother Esther?"

Jack nodded.

"Well, that money, with all that you have since sent me, has been invested for you. And now, Jack, my dear old pard, that money has made you a little fortune. You need work no more."

Jack choked. He tried to speak, but turned his face away. Esther slipped her arm through his, and told him she wanted to visit with him. So the two walked up and down the road in front of the house, talking.

"We are all so happy over Wathemah," she said. "I know you must be, too. He is really your boy, for you saved him, Jack."

Then Jack Harding poured his heart out to her. She understood him, all his struggles, all his great unselfish love for the boy. She knew the pain of his awakening, when he found that the child whom he had loved, whom he had toiled for all these years, needed him no more. It was pathetic to her.

"But, Jack dear," she was saying, "I am sure Wathemah will always be a joy to you. Only wait. My heart tells me he has some great purpose. He will tell us in time. When he does, you will want to help him carry out his plans, won't you?"

Up and down the veranda, walked Kenneth and Wathemah. Kenneth's hand and arm rested on the youth's shoulder.

"Yes, Wathemah," he was saying, "little David's death was a great sorrow to us. He was shot by an unfriendly Indian, you know."

For a moment his face darkened. The two walked on in silence.

"And Mother Esther?" Wathemah said in a husky tone; "how can she still give her life for the uplift of my people?"

"Oh, you know as well as I. She serves a great Master."

They talked from heart to heart, as father and son.

At last all the household gathered on the veranda to watch the afterglow in the sky. Esther slipped her arm through Wathemah's, and they stood facing the west.

"And so my boy is to enter the Indian service," she said.

"Yes," he answered. "You know I majored in anthropology and education. My summers among various Indian tribes were to help me know the Indian. My thesis for my doctorate is to be on 'The Education of the Indian in the United States.' When I have my material ready, I'll return to Harvard and remain until I complete my work for my doctorate."

"What next, Wathemah?" There was a thrill in Esther's voice.

The Indian youth squared his shoulders, lifted his head, and said, as though making a solemn covenant:

"The uplift of my race!"

And Esther's face was shining.