"Don't you love your son, your poor little lost son?"

"Of course, Jordan! Don't be stupid!... Of course I do, but I don't know where he is."

"And you're making very little effort to find him, that's evident.

You've seen him, and I haven't, yet I'd give half my life to get my hands on him." He paused, drew a long breath, and proceeded, "I'll warn you of this much, Molly. When I do find him--and find him I will--you won't get a chance to even see him."

"Oh, Jordan!" gasped Molly.

"That's right," he insisted, with an ugly shrug. "I tell you, Molly, I've always been impressed with the idea mothers cared more for their children than fathers, but I'm over that now since knowing you."

"Oh, Jordan!" repeated Molly faintly once more.

Not heeding her appealing voice, he rushed on, "I'd be willing to strangle half the world for money to hire detectives to search for him. But as I've said before, I'd let Jinnie alone if I had him--and work for him with my two hands--if I had to dig graves."

Molly turned her startled eyes upon the excited man. She had never known the depths of his nature.

"You make me tired," he proceeded with sarcasm. "What in h.e.l.l do you think Theodore could see in you when a girl like Jinnie cares for him?"

"Why, Jordan Morse!" stammered the woman. "How dare you talk to me like that?"

"Because it's true," replied Jordan hotly. "You're like a lot of women--if a man looks sidewise at you, you think he's bowled over with your charms. Good Heavens! It's sickening!"

"I didn't ask you here to talk like this," said Molly.

"What if you didn't?" snapped Jordan. "_You_ can talk now if you want to! I'm going home in five minutes, and I want some money before I go, too."

"I'll give you some to-morrow. Now what're you going to do about Theodore?"

"Well, he won't marry Jinnie," replied Morse slowly.

"How can you help it?"

"That's what I'm going to figure out. If I can get her away from Grandoken's, she won't get back, I can tell you that. But that d.a.m.n cobbler and Theo'll make such a devilish row----"

"You needn't be profane," chided Molly.

"A woman like you's enough to make any man swear.... Now listen to me.

The very fact that Jinnie ran away from home shows me that Tom Singleton told her I put 'im in a mad house! Jinnie, of course, told Grandoken. I've got to get that cobbler--and--you've got to help me get Jinnie----"

"Haven't I done all I could?" gasped Molly. "I can't go down there and take her by the nape of the neck, can I?"

"No, but I will! Now let's go! I want to do some pretty tall thinking before morning. Once let those two people be married and I'm lost."

"So am I," muttered Molly, swaying at his vehement words.

They threaded their way back to the hill, and Morse left Molly at her gate. As she walked slowly up the road, she could see the light in Theodore's window, and his shadow thrown on the curtain.

CHAPTER x.x.xII

JORDAN MORSE'S PLAN

The next morning Jordan Morse rose after a sleepless night, his face drawn in long, deep-set lines. The hours had been spent in futile planning. To save himself from the dire consequences of his misdeeds, to procure the money which would come to Jinnie when she was eighteen years old, was the one idea that dinned constantly at his brain. She and the cobbler would have to be put out of the way, and this must be done before Theodore announced publicly his intention of marrying the girl. Jordan had no wish to break his friendship with Theodore, so he could do nothing openly. If it were a mere case of filching what little he could from Jinnie's estate before she became of age, it would be an easy matter, but the girl must disappear. How? Where?

There was finality in one of his decisions that moment. He must get possession of her that very day. Theodore would let no gra.s.s grow under his feet. He would marry her offhand, and educate her afterwards.

Jordan wondered vaguely if the Jewish cobbler had an enemy among the shortwood gatherers. If so, and the man could be found, it would bring his own salvation.

With this desire uppermost in his mind, Jordan wended his way to the lower part of the town, pa.s.sed into Paradise Road, and paused a second in front of Lafe Grandoken's shop to read the sign:

"Lafe Grandoken: Cobbler of Folks' and Children's Shoes and Boots."

His lips curled at the crude printing, and he went on past the remaining shanties to the entrance to the marsh. At the path where Jinnie had so many times brought forth her load of wood, he paused again and glanced about. As far north as he could see, the marsh stretched out in misty greenness. The place seemed to be without a human being, until Jordan suddenly heard the crackling of branches, and there appeared before him a young man with deep-set, evil eyes, and large, pouting mouth. Upon his shoulders was a shortwood strap.

At the sight of Mr. Morse, the wood gatherer hesitated, made a sort of obeisance, and proceeded to move on. Jordan stopped him with a motion of his hand.

"In a hurry?" he asked good-naturedly.

"Got to sell my wood," growled the man.

Morse appraised him with an a.n.a.lytical glance.

"What's your name?" he demanded.

"Maudlin Bates. What's yours?"

"Jordan Morse.... Just wait a minute. I want to talk to you."

Down came the shortwood strap on the ground. Maudlin scented something interesting.

"I got to sell my wood," he repeated, surly-toned. However, he nodded his head when Jordan explained that it might be to his advantage to tarry a while.

"I'll pay you for your time," agreed Morse eagerly.

Side by side they seated themselves on a fallen tree. The young wood gatherer looked wicked enough to do anything that might be requested of him.

"Are you married?" asked Morse.

Maudlin's face darkened.

"No," he grunted moodily.

"Ha! In love? I see!" laughed the other.

Maudlin turned sheepish eyes on his interrogator; then looked down, flushed, and finished:

"I'd a been married all right if it hadn't been for a d.a.m.n bloke along Paradise Road," he explained.