They went out together into the sunshine and wideness of the morning, and it seemed a new day had been created since she got back from her ride with the minister. She looked at the st.u.r.dy, honest-eyed boy beside her, and was glad to have him for a companion.
Just in front of the school-house Margaret paused. "Oh, I forgot! The key! Mr. West has the key in his pocket! We can"t get in, can we?"
"Aw, we don"t need a key," said her escort. "Just you wait!" And he whisked around to the back of the building, and in about three minutes his shock head appeared at the window. He threw the sash open and dropped out a wooden box. "There!" he said, triumphantly, "you c"n climb up on that, cantcha? Here, I"ll holdya steady. Take holta my hand."
And so it was through the front window that the new teacher of the Ridge School first appeared on her future scene of action and surveyed her little kingdom.
Bud threw open the shutters, letting the view of the plains and the sunshine into the big, dusty room, and showed her the new blackboard with great pride.
"There"s a whole box o" chalk up on the desk, too; "ain"t never been opened yet. Dad said that was your property. Want I should open it?"
"Why, yes, you might, and then we"ll try the blackboard, won"t we?"
Bud went to work gravely opening the chalk-box as if it were a small treasure-chest, and finally produced a long, smooth stick of chalk and handed it to her with shining eyes.
"You try it first, Bud," said the teacher, seeing his eagerness; and the boy went forward awesomely, as if it were a sacred precinct and he unworthy to intrude.
Shyly, awkwardly, with infinite painstaking, he wrote in a cramped hand, "William Budlong Tanner," and then, growing bolder, "Ashland, Arizona,"
with a big flourish underneath.
"Some cla.s.s!" he said, standing back and regarding his handiwork with pride. "Say, I like the sound the chalk makes on it, don"t you?"
"Yes, I do," said Margaret, heartily, "so smooth and business-like, isn"t it? You"ll enjoy doing examples in algebra on it, won"t you?"
"Good night! Algebra! Me? No chance. I can"t never get through the arithmetic. The last teacher said if he"d come back twenty years from now he"d still find me working compound interest."
"Well, we"ll prove to that man that he wasn"t much of a judge of boys,"
said Margaret, with a tilt of her chin and a glint of her teacher-mettle showing in her eyes. "If you"re not in algebra before two months are over I"ll miss my guess. We"ll get at it right away and show him."
Bud watched her, charmed. He was beginning to believe that almost anything she tried would come true.
"Now, Bud, suppose we get to work. I"d like to get acquainted with my cla.s.s a little before Monday. Isn"t it Monday school opens? I thought so. Well, suppose you give me the names of the scholars and I"ll write them down, and that will help me to remember them. Where will you begin?
Here, suppose you sit down in the front seat and tell me who sits there and a little bit about him, and I"ll write the name down; and then you move to the next seat and tell me about the next one, and so on. Will you?"
"Sure!" said Bud, entering into the new game. "But it ain"t a "he" sits there. It"s Susie Johnson. She"s Bill Johnson"s smallest girl. She has to sit front "cause she giggles so much. She has yellow curls and she ducks her head down and snickers right out this way when anything funny happens in school." And Bud proceeded to duck and wriggle in perfect imitation of the small Susie.
Margaret saw the boy"s power of imitation was remarkable, and laughed heartily at his burlesque. Then she turned and wrote "Susie Johnson" on the board in beautiful script.
Bud watched with admiration, saying softly under his breath; "Gee!
that"s great, that blackboard, ain"t it?"
Amelia Schwartz came next. She was long and lank, with the b.u.t.tons off the back of her dress, and hands and feet too large for her garments.
Margaret could not help but see her in the clever pantomime the boy carried on. Next was Rosa Rogers, daughter of a wealthy cattleman, the pink-cheeked, blue-eyed beauty of the school, with all the boys at her feet and a perfect knowledge of her power over them. Bud didn"t, of course, state it that way, but Margaret gathered as much from his simpering smile and the coy way he looked out of the corner of his eyes as he described her.
Down the long list of scholars he went, row after row, and when he came to the seats where the boys sat his tone changed. She could tell by the shading of his voice which boys were the ones to look out for.
Jed Brower, it appeared, was a name to conjure with. He could ride any horse that ever stood on four legs, he could outshoot most of the boys in the neighborhood, and he never allowed any teacher to tell him what to do. He was Texas Brower"s only boy, and always had his own way. His father was on the school board. Jed Brower was held in awe, even while his methods were despised, by some of the younger boys. He was big and powerful, and n.o.body dared fool with him. Bud did not exactly warn Margaret that she must keep on the right side of Jed Brower, but he conveyed that impression without words. Margaret understood. She knew also that Tad Brooks, Larry Parker, Jim Long, and Dake Foster were merely henchmen of the worthy Jed, and not negligible quant.i.ties when taken by themselves. But over the name of Timothy Forbes--"Delicate Forbes," Bud explained was his nickname--the boy lingered with that loving inflection of admiration that a younger boy will sometimes have for a husky, courageous older lad. The second time Bud spoke of him he called him "Forbeszy," and Margaret perceived that here was Bud"s model of manhood. Delicate Forbes could outshoot and outride even Jed Brower when he chose, and his courage with cattle was that of a man. Moreover, he was good to the younger boys and wasn"t above pitching baseball with them when he had nothing better afoot. It became evident from the general description that Delicate Forbes was not called so from any lack of inches to his stature. He had a record of having licked every man teacher in the school, and beaten by guile every woman teacher they had had in six years. Bud was loyal to his admiration, yet it could be plainly seen that he felt Margaret"s greatest hindrance in the school would be Delicate Forbes.
Margaret mentally underlined the names in her memory that belonged to the back seats in the first and second rows of desks, and went home praying that she might have wisdom and patience to deal with Jed Brower and Timothy Forbes, and through them to manage the rest of her school.
She surprised Bud at the dinner-table by handing him a neat diagram of the school-room desks with the correct names of all but three or four of the scholars written on them. Such a feat of memory raised her several notches in his estimation.
"Say, that"s going some! Guess you won"t forget nothing, no matter how much they try to make you."
CHAPTER X
The minister did not appear until late in the evening, after Margaret had gone to her room, for which she was sincerely thankful. She could hear his voice, fretful and complaining, as he called loudly for Bud to take the horse. It appeared he had lost his way and wandered many miles out of the trail. He blamed the country for having no better trails, and the horse for not being able to find his way better. Mr. Tanner had gone to bed, but Mrs. Tanner bustled about and tried to comfort him.
"Now that"s too bad! Dearie me! Bud oughta hev gone with you, so he ought. Bud! _Oh_, Bud, you "ain"t gonta sleep yet, hev you? Wake up and come down and take this horse to the barn."
But Bud declined to descend. He shouted some sleepy directions from his loft where he slept, and said the minister could look after his own horse, he "wasn"ta gonta!" There was "plentya corn in the bin."
The minister grumbled his way to the barn, highly incensed at Bud, and disturbed the calm of the evening view of Margaret"s mountain by his complaints when he returned. He wasn"t accustomed to handling horses, and he thought Bud might have stayed up and attended to it himself. Bud chuckled in his loft and stole down the back kitchen roof while the minister ate his late supper. Bud would never leave the old horse to that amateur"s tender mercies, but he didn"t intend to make it easy for the amateur. Margaret, from her window-seat watching the night in the darkness, saw Bud slip off the kitchen roof and run to the barn, and she smiled to herself. She liked that boy. He was going to be a good comrade.
The Sabbath morning dawned brilliantly, and to the homesick girl there suddenly came a sense of desolation on waking. A strange land was this, without church-bells or sense of Sabbath fitness. The mountain, it is true, greeted her with a holy light of gladness, but mountains are not dependent upon humankind for being in the spirit on the Lord"s day. They are "continually praising Him." Margaret wondered how she was to get through this day, this dreary first Sabbath away from her home and her Sabbath-school cla.s.s, and her dear old church with father preaching. She had been away, of course, a great many times before, but never to a churchless community. It was beginning to dawn upon her that that was what Ashland was--a churchless community. As she recalled the walk to the school and the ride through the village she had seen nothing that looked like a church, and all the talk had been of the missionary. They must have services of some sort, of course, and probably that flabby, fish-eyed man, her fellow-boarder, was to preach; but her heart turned sick at thought of listening to a man who had confessed to the unbeliefs that he had. Of course, he would likely know enough to keep such doubts to himself; but he had told her, and nothing he could say now would help or uplift her in the least.
She drew a deep sigh and looked at her watch. It was late. At home the early Sabbath-school bells would be ringing, and little girls in white, with bunches of late fall flowers for their teachers, and holding hands with their little brothers, would be hurrying down the street. Father was in his study, going over his morning sermon, and mother putting her little pearl pin in her collar, getting ready to go to her Bible cla.s.s.
Margaret decided it was time to get up and stop thinking of it all.
She put on a little white dress that she wore to church at home and hurried down to discover what the family plans were for the day, but found, to her dismay, that the atmosphere below-stairs was just like that of other days. Mr. Tanner sat tilted back in a dining-room chair, reading the weekly paper, Mrs. Tanner was bustling in with hot corn-bread, Bud was on the front-door steps teasing the dog, and the minister came in with an air of weariness upon him, as if he quite intended taking it out on his companions that he had experienced a trying time on Sat.u.r.day. He did not look in the least like a man who expected to preach in a few minutes. He declined to eat his egg because it was cooked too hard, and poor Mrs. Tanner had to try it twice before she succeeded in producing a soft-boiled egg to suit him. Only the radiant outline of the great mountain, which Margaret could see over the minister"s head, looked peaceful and Sabbath-like.
"What time do you have service?" Margaret asked, as she rose from the table.
"Service?" It was Mr. Tanner who echoed her question as if he did not quite know what she meant.
Mrs. Tanner raised her eyes from her belated breakfast with a worried look, like a hen stretching her neck about to see what she ought to do next for the comfort of the chickens under her care. It was apparent that she had no comprehension of what the question meant. It was the minister who answered, condescendingly:
"Um! Ah! There is no church edifice here, you know, Miss Earle. The mission station is located some miles distant."
"I know," said Margaret, "but they surely have some religious service?"
"I really don"t know," said the minister, loftily, as if it were something wholly beneath his notice.
"Then you are not going to preach this morning?" In spite of herself there was relief in her tone.
"Most certainly not," he replied, stiffly. "I came out here to rest, and I selected this place largely because it was so far from a church. I wanted to be where I should not be annoyed by requests to preach. Of course, ministers from the East would be a curiosity in these Western towns, and I should really get no rest at all if I had gone where my services would have been in constant demand. When I came out here I was in much the condition of our friend the minister of whom you have doubtless heard. He was starting on his vacation, and he said to a brother minister, with a smile of joy and relief, "No preaching, no praying, no reading of the Bible for six whole weeks!""
"Indeed!" said Margaret, freezingly. "No, I am not familiar with ministers of that sort." She turned with dismissal in her manner and appealed to Mrs. Tanner. "Then you really have no Sabbath service of any sort whatever in town?" There was something almost tragic in her face.
She stood aghast at the prospect before her.
Mrs. Tanner"s neck stretched up a little longer, and her lips dropped apart in her attempt to understand the situation. One would scarcely have been surprised to hear her say, "Cut-cut-cut-ca-daw-cut?" so fluttered did she seem.
Then up spoke Bud. "We gotta Sunday-school, ma!" There was pride of possession in Bud"s tone, and a kind of triumph over the minister, albeit Bud had adjured Sunday-school since his early infancy. He was ready now, however, to be offered on the altar of Sunday-school, even, if that would please the new teacher--and spite the minister. "I"ll take you ef you wanta go." He looked defiantly at the minister as he said it.