With that, he sprang from her, and walked proudly out of the yard, on toward the canyon, without turning, or looking back.
"A nugget of gold from the Rockies," said Kenneth, looking after him.
"An Arizona cactus," she replied, "lovely, but hard to handle."
Wathemah trudged up the canyon, to his favorite bowlder, where he went, often, to listen to the waters. There, he threw himself down, and cried himself to sleep. He had slept a half-hour, perhaps, when he was awakened by voices.
"Why, here's Wathemah," called out Jack Harding.
Another spoke, "He's a queer un. He never will be civilized."
The group of cowboys gathered about the child.
"What's the matter, sonny?" asked his friend, Jack Harding.
Then he told them of his teacher's refusal to take him with her.
"Don't cry, little kid!" said Jack. "Here, boys, let's give him money ter go home with Miss Bright. I'll jest ask her ter take him along with her, an' I'll pay fur his keep. Don't cry, sonny. It's all right. Down in y'r pockets, pards, an' fork out some money fur Wathemah. We saved him, an' raised him, yer know."