she has grown that fond av her! Beats all!"

"G.o.d will bless you for saving her, you may be sure of that,"

responded Esther heartily. "She must have gone directly from me to the canyon. I had urged her to leave Mr. Clifton and come to me, but she did not seem to have decision enough to promise then. The canyon must have been an after-thought, and the result of her despair."

"Poor creetur!" said Patrick, huskily.

When Carla saw Esther, she began to sob, and seemed greatly disturbed.

Her pulse grew more rapid. Such remorse one seldom sees.

Esther placed her own cool hand on the sick girl's forehead, and spoke to her in low, soothing tones. Carla grasped her hand and held it tightly.

"I have wanted to see you and tell you--" But Esther interrupted her.

"Yes, dear, you shall tell me by and by. Don't try to tell me now."

"I must. The distress here" (placing her hand over her heart) "will never go until I tell you. After I left you at the schoolhouse, I was filled with despair. I felt so utterly strengthless. Then I prayed.

Suddenly it came to me I must never again return to the saloon or--him. I seemed to have strength given me to go on and on in the opposite direction. All I remember now is that I resolved to make it impossible to return. Then I awakened here. They have been so kind to me, especially little Brigham. He comes in to see me as soon as he returns from school, and talks to me about you, and it comforts me."

"G.o.d has been leading you, Carla," said Esther. "I am sure of that.

And He raised up this kind friend to save you in your dark hour. But the dark hour is past now, and we are going to help you learn how to grow happy."

"Can one learn how to grow happy who has made such a blunder of life?"

"Oh, yes. And it is a blessed lesson to learn."

When Esther left, she promised to return on the morrow.

That evening, there was a family council at Clayton Ranch, and the result of it was that Mrs. Clayton herself soon went to see Carla, and invited her to make her home with them.

So it came about that Carla Earle became one of the Clayton household; and in the loving, helpful atmosphere of that home, she began to lift up her lovely head, as does an early blossoming flower in the April sunshine after it has been nipped by an untimely frost. And life, with love enfolding her every hour of each happy day, began to grow worth while to the English girl.

And Carla grew into the affection of the family, for she was a refined, winsome creature. She became as a daughter to Mrs. Clayton.

One day Mrs. Clayton said to her husband:

"Do you notice how much Carla is growing like our Miss Bright?"

"Yes," he responded. "There is something very attractive about both.

Only Miss Bright is a remarkably well-poised woman, and Carla is clinging and dependent. Poor Carla! How bitterly she has been wronged!

I am glad she has found love and shelter at last."

"So am I, John. Why, the poor child was just starved for love."

"I believe, Mary, that she will develop into a strong character. What she has suffered has been a great lesson to her."

"Poor child! Sometimes when I speak appreciative words to her, she breaks down, and says she doesn't deserve all our kindness. One day when she cried, she said, 'Why does G.o.d take mothers away from their children when they need them so?'"

"Well," he responded, "she has at last found a good mother. G.o.d bless the mother and the unfortunate girl!"

And stooping, the husband kissed his wife, and started on a long journey to a distant mine.

CHAPTER XI

AN EVENTFUL DAY

After Esther Bright and Wathemah returned from their visit at Murphy Ranch, he became a guest at the Clayton home, and there he remained until his arm was well.

His sojourn with them strengthened his devotion to Esther Bright, and brought about several changes for the better in him.

When he was allowed to run and play with the children again, he returned to school and to Keith's saloon.

The men who had always called him the "little tough," now observed him with amazement. One observed:

"I'll be blowed ef the Angel o' the Gila can't do anythin' she wants ter. See that kid? He used ter cuss like a pirate. Do ye hear him cuss now? No, sir! For why? 'Cause he knows she don't like it. That's why.

Ef she wuz ter be turned loose among the Apaches, she'd civilize 'em.

An' they're the blankedest Indians there be. I don't know what it is about her. She sort o' makes a feller want ter be somebody. I reckon G.o.d Almighty knows more about 'er nor we do, 'n' she knows more about us 'n' we do ourselves. Leastways, she do about me."

Having delivered himself to this effect, he left the saloon, sober.

There is no doubt Esther Bright had sown good seed broadcast, and some had fallen on good ground. The awakening of the cowla.s.ses had been a continual joy to her. She marveled that some one had not found them before. Each successive day the little school reached out further to enrich the life of the community.

One morning, while a cla.s.s was in the midst of a recitation, there came a knock at the schoolhouse door.

"I'm Robert Duncan," said a Scotch miner, as Esther opened the door.

He held by the hand a little boy of about three years.

"This is Bobbie," he continued. "I've brought me bairn tae school."

Could the mother spare such a baby? Ah, could she?

Esther stooped and held out her arms to the child, but he hid behind his father.

"His mither died last week, Miss," he said with a choke in his voice.

"I'd like tae leave him with ye."

"I'm very sorry," she replied, with quick sympathy. Then she promised to receive Bobbie as a pupil, providing he would stay.

"Oh, he'll stay," the father hastened to say, "if ye'll just call Donald."

So Donald was called, and he succeeded in coaxing Bobbie into the schoolroom.

When the child realized that his father had gone and left him, he ran to the door, crying, "Faither! Faither!" while tears rolled down his cheeks.

Then the mother heart of Esther Bright a.s.serted itself. She gathered him in her arms and soothed him, until he cuddled down contentedly and fell asleep.