"She? What's she know 'bout _my_ 'ligion or _y'r_ 'ligion? She ain't had no relevations. But git off to bed, the hull lot o' yer." "It's only eight o'clock," said one, sullenly, dragging his feet. "Well, I don't care. The house is all red up, an' I wants it to stay red up till schoolma'am comes. Besides, y're all clean yerselfs now, an' yer won't have to wash an' comb to-morrer." At last they were driven off to bed, and gradually they quieted down, and all were asleep in the little adobe house. But Brigham tossed in terrifying dreams. The scene shifted. He was with Wathemah, who was telling him of Jesus. Then the teacher's life was in danger and he tried to save her. He felt her hand upon his head; a smile flitted across his face, his muscles relaxed; he was in heaven; the streets were like sunset skies. The teacher took him by the hand and led him to the loveliest Being he had ever beheld, who gathered him in His arms, and said, "Suffer little children to come unto Me." CHAPTER IX THE VISIT AT MURPHY RANCH The hour hand of the clock was on three. Twenty pairs of restless eyes watched the minute hand as it drew close, very close to twelve. The books had been placed in the desks; there was a hush of attention. The children sang "America," saluted the flag, and marched out of the room. As Wathemah returned to visit with his teacher, she asked him what he had learned that day. "Country love!" answered the child. As he spoke, he stepped to the flag, that hung from the staff in graceful folds, and caressed it. "Oh, Miss Bright, Miss Bright!" shouted James Burns. "Brigham's come fur yer! He's brung his horse fur yer ter ride! Golly! But he looks fine! Come see!" And James led the way to Brigham and the horse. Sure enough! There they were. The little lad, radiant with pride, the huge bay horse, lean and gaunt and hairy, bedight as never was horse before. He seemed conscious that this was a gala day, and that it behooved him to deport himself as became a respectable family horse. Numerous small bouquets, tied to white muslin strings, adorned his bridle. The animal was guiltless of saddle, but there was an improvised cinch of white cotton cloth around him. This, likewise, was adorned with butterfly-like bouquets. "Ain't he some?" said one lad, admiringly. "Gee! but I'd like ter ride him!" shouted another. "Brigham dressed old Jim up just 'cause yer wuz goin' ter ride him, Miss Bright," said Donald. To the last remark, the teacher replied: "Ride him? I never rode bareback in my life. I am afraid to try it. I might slip off." "Oh, no, yer won't," said Brigham, who stood holding the horse's bridle. The teacher pretended to be greatly scared. The company grew hilarious. "Brigham," she said, "I am sure I can't stick on. I might go sliding over the horse's head and land in a heap. Then what would you do?" "Pick yer up." This reply increased the hilarity.