“This is the place,” she heard the priest say, his voice seeming to come from a long distance. “This is the Mission.”
She stopped and looked about her. They were in front of an old, two-story building, decrepit and forbidding, but well lighted. While she gazed, the priest opened the door and bade her enter.
“This down here is the reading room,” he explained. “The door is never locked. Upstairs is my office, and sleeping rooms for men. Also a stock of old clothes I keep on hand for ’em when I send ’em out to look for work. I’ve clothed an average of four men a day during the past year, and sent ’em out to look for jobs. I board ’em, and keep ’em going until they land something. Sometimes I have to lend ’em money. I just help 160 ’em to help themselves. No, I never bother about a man’s religion. Come up to my office.”
Carmen climbed the rough steps to the floor above and entered the small but well-kept office of the priest.
“Now here,” he said, with a touch of pride, “is my card-index. I keep tab on all who come here. When they get straightened up and go out to hunt work, I give ’em identification cards. Just as soon as I can get funds I’m going to put a billiard table back there and fit up a little chapel, so’s the Catholic men who drift in here can attend service. You know, a lot of ’em don’t have the nerve to go to a church. Too proud. But they’d attend Mass here.”
Carmen looked at the man in admiration. Then a thought came to her. “We haven’t either of us asked the other’s name,” she said.
The priest’s eyes twinkled. “I’ve been dying to know yours,” he replied. “I’m Father Magee, Daniel Magee. But the boys generally call me Danny. What shall I call you? Oh, give any name; it doesn’t matter, just so’s I’ll know how to address you.”
“I am Carmen Ariza. And I am from South America,” said the girl simply. “Now sit down here. I want to talk to you. I have a lot to ask.”
An hour later the girl rose from her chair. “I shall have to wait and visit the Hall another time,” she said. “I must catch the eight-thirty back to the city. But––”