CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

DIXIE VISITS A FRIEND

They were again on the street, and the noon throng had vanished. As it was still too early for the afternoon shoppers to arrive, the town seemed to be taking a midday siesta. Dixie wondered where they were going, but said nothing until they turned a corner, when she uttered an exclamation of joy. “Oh, teacher, Miss Bayley,” she exclaimed. “There’s the bank. How I’d perfectly love to go in and see kind Mr. Clayburn.” Then, looking up anxiously. “Would it ’sturb him too much, do you suppose?”

Miss Bayley had a secret desire to see the head of the board of education of the Genoa district, and so she replied, “We can at least inquire, and if Mr. Clayburn is not busy, he may see us for a few moments.”

The banker had just returned from his lunch, and was in his handsomely appointed private office. He was never too busy to see a friend, he told little Dixie, when, wondering-eyed, she had followed the uniformed bank-messenger into the marble-walled room.

“This is our new teacher, Miss Bayley,” the child said, not knowing the right form of introduction.

The kind face of the man lighted. Holding out his hand, he exclaimed, “Miss Bayley, this is truly a pleasure, and right now let me say that I sincerely regret not having visited your little school before this, but, since your arrival, I have been more than ever confined to the bank during school-hours. However, I shall endeavor to visit your district regularly after the first of January.”

They had seated themselves at the banker’s invitation, and Josephine Bayley said quietly, “I shall not be the teacher at Woodford’s school in January, Mr. Clayburn.”

There was real regret in the face of the listener. “Why, Miss Bayley, I am sorry to hear that. Has something happened to recall you to New York? I remember you wrote that you would gladly stay one year with us in our wild mountain country.” Then he smiled as he asked, “Have you found it too wild?”

The young teacher also smiled, but she said seriously: “No, indeed! I love the West! I felt smothered in that city of walled-in cañons, where the sweep of the wind is never felt. I glory in your rugged mountains. I forget that life holds much that is petty when I look at them, especially at night when they are outlined against the sky, and even the stars are much nearer here. In New York heaven seems farther away.”

“But, my dear girl,” the banker said, “If you like it here so very much, why desert us?”

“It is because I have been dismissed by the local board of education.” If there was a twinkle in the brown eyes of the speaker, Mr. Clayburn did not notice it. He tapped upon his desk with the pencil he held, and a frown gathered between his eyes.

“Miss Bayley,” he said after a thoughtful moment, “I alone am at fault. I should not have entrusted to a man without education the power to engage and dismiss a teacher.” Then, looking up inquiringly, “Which one of the three have you offended?”

“All of them, I think,” was the reply. “The little girl is indignant because I have to acknowledge that the Martin children are brighter pupils, the mother feels that she has a personal grievance because I will not devote my free time, whenever she wishes, to preparing papers for her to read at your women’s club, as her own compositions, while the father considers me insubordinate because I have declared my independence.”

“Good for you, Miss Bayley!” was the rather astonishing exclamation. The banker looked his approval. Then, rising, he held out his hand. “Don’t begin to pack your trunk, and, as I said before, the first of the year I will make regular visits to the district schools. Let me know if you need new books or anything else to help your work along.”

When they were again on the street, Miss Bayley caught the hand of the small girl and said: “Dixie, come with me! We’re going to the movies to celebrate.”