CHAPTER EIGHTEEN THE SHEEP-KING DICTATES
Miss Bayley opened the door when she heard an imperative rap thereon.
"Oh, good-afternoon, Mrs. Archer and Mr. Archer," she said graciously."Come in, won't you, and Jessica? You are all acquainted with my littlefriend, Dixie Martin, and so introductions will not be necessary. Won'tyou be seated? This is my most comfortable chair, Mrs. Archer, andJessica, you will find room over on the window-seat by Dixie."
The wife of the sheep-king sat down, but held herself rigidly erect."Miss Bayley," she said, "didn't you get an invitation to come to ourhouse to supper?"
"Why, yes, Mrs. Archer, but did not Jessica tell you that although Iappreciated your thoughtfulness, I could not accept to-day, as I hadanother engagement?" Miss Bayley was calm, and completely mistress ofthe situation.
The older woman sneered. "Engagement?" she repeated sarcastically. "Howcould you have any engagements in these here parts that couldn't be setaside when I need your services?"
Miss Bayley's eyebrows lifted, ever so slightly. "I did not understandthat you needed me," she said. "I thought that you wished to contributeto my pleasure by inviting me to supper."
Mrs. Archer's manner changed. "Well, so I did in a way, and if you'll goback with us now," she said, "I'll call it all right." She knew thatunless Miss Bayley did help her, she would be unable to read a paperbefore the Woman's Club in Genoa on the next day.
For one brief moment Josephine Bayley hesitated. Should she defy thiswoman and declare her right to independence at least as far as her freetime was concerned? A second thought reminded her that this would beunwise, if she wished to remain in the mountain country; and now, morethan ever, she did wish to remain, that she might help little DixieMartin, if for no other reason.
That small girl had risen, and in the pause she said shyly: "Teacher,Miss Bayley, I must be going. Baby Jim is like to be missing me by now."
"Very well, dear." The teacher also rose and walked to the door whichshe opened, and then said, loud enough for the listeners to hear withouteffort: "Dixie, be ready to-morrow morning at half-past eight. You wouldbetter come up here, dear, and then the stage will not need to stop onthe canyon road."
Then, closing the door and turning back into the room, she addedpleasantly: "I suppose, Mrs. Archer, that you wish me to prepare a paperfor you. If that is true, I will get my hat and coat and accompany you."
Her manner, in spite of the graciousness of her words and tone, wasdefiant, and when she returned from her screened bedroom, she found Mr.Archer, his hands behind him, pacing up and down the living-room.
"Look a-here, Miss Bayley," he blurted out, "my wife and me aren't atall satisfied with your actions. It's us chiefly that supports thisschool and pays your salary."
The teacher's eyebrows lifted questioningly. "Indeed?" she said. "Ithought this was a public school in the Genoa district."
Mr. Archer was obliged to confess that, in one way, it was. "But it's mytaxes, mostly, that pays your salary," he contended.
"When taxes are paid into the county treasury, the money is no longeryours," Miss Bayley told him. "It belongs to the people to be spent forthe best interest of the entire community."
The young teacher's manner was quiet, but she spoke as one who knew.
Mrs. Archer, unable to longer remain silent, burst forth with: "Youmight as well understand, once for all, that Mr. Sethibald Archer isboss of this here school, and what he says goes. Mr. Samuel Clayburn,the banker, he as is head of the board of education over in Genoa, toldMr. Archer that as long as everything went along all right, he'd notinterfere with my husband's management of this here school district."
The ponderous woman rose, and her expression was one of triumph. Mr.Archer nodded his agreement. "That's just what the Honorable Clayburnsaid, and so, if you're wanting to remain in this here school, you'dbetter not be setting those no-account Martin children up over ourJessica. Now, are you coming with us, Miss Bayley?"
To their unconcealed amazement, the young teacher mutinied.
"No," she said quietly, "I am not. I consider my free time my own to dowith as I wish, and I do not wish to go anywhere this evening."
A dull red suffused the face of Mr. Sethibald Archer. "Miss Bayley," hesputtered, "this here term ends the middle of December. You can pack upyour baggage and be ready to leave the day after."
"Very well, Mr. Archer," was the astonishing reply, "if you are still inauthority when that time arrives, I shall do as you request."
When the three were again in their buggy and on their way down thevalley road, the irate man exclaimed: "Such impudence! If I'm inauthority by the middle of December, she'll leave. Huh, she'll leave allright! Who else in these here parts has brains enough to be governingboard of a public school?"
Mrs. Archer, being a wise wife, smoothed his ruffled feelings byremarking: "Nobody, of course. You're the brainiest man anywhere thisside of Genoa." Then she added, with a sigh, "I'll have to give upreading that paper to-morrow, and you'll have to drive over and tell 'emI was took sick or something. If I was you, I'd stop in at the bankwhile you're in Genoa, and clinch the matter about dismissin' thatupstart of a Miss Bayley."
"That's just what I'll do!" Mr. Archer agreed, as he drove into hisbarnyard.
They had forgotten that on the next day the teacher and Dixie Martinwere also going to Genoa.