Morse sprang forward and grasped the child.

"Get up," he hissed.

Bobbie scrambled up because he was made to. He uttered a frightened, terrified cry.

Then, "Jinnie!" he gasped.

Jinnie saw Morse shake the slender little body and drop into a chair, dragging the child forward. Bobbie could no longer speak. The dazed girl knew the little heart was beating in its very worst terror. She couldn't bear the sight and closed her eyes for an instant. When she opened them, Morse's hand was raised above the boy's golden head, but she caught it in hers before it descended.

"I'll do it," she managed to whisper. "Look! Look! You've killed him."

In another moment she had Bobbie in her arms, his face pressed against her breast.

"Get out of here!" she said, deathly white, to Morse. "I'll do it, come back to-morrow."

And Morse was glad to escape.

After Jinnie brought Bobbie to his senses and he lay like a crumpled leaf on the divan, she took up the hated letter. She sat down to read it once more.

It was short, concise, and to the point.

"MR. KING:

"I made a mistake in ever thinking I cared for you. I have some one else now I love better, and expect to be very happy with him.

"JINNIE GRANDOKEN."

The next morning when Morse came jauntily in, she handed him the copy of it without a word. He only said to her:

"You'd have saved yourself a lot of trouble if you'd done this in the first place. You won't bother me long now. Mr. King is home and almost well." Then he smiled, showing his white, even teeth. "He'll be glad to receive this letter."

"Get out," Jinnie gritted. "Get out before I--I kill you!"

Two days later Molly Merriweather was in the seventh heaven of bliss.

As Morse had said, Theodore was home, looking more like himself. With her heart in her mouth, the woman entered his sitting room with Jinnie's letter. Jordan had had it mailed to King from Binghamton.

"I've brought you a letter, Theodore," smiled Molly nervously.

He extended his hand, and upon recognizing the handwriting, turned deadly white.

"I'd like to be alone," said he without looking up.

When he sent for her a little while later, and she sat opposite him, he said:

"I'd rather not speak of--of--Miss Grandoken again. Will you give me a drink, Molly?" And the woman noted the hurt look in his eyes.

CHAPTER XLVI

"BUST 'EM OUT"

"Jinnie, ain't we ever goin' back to Peggy?" Bobbie asked one day, his eyes rolling upward. His small face was seamed with questioning anxiety.

The girl drew him to her lap.

How many times Jinnie had asked that question of herself! How she longed for Paradise Road, with its row of shacks, Peggy and the baby!

Bobby knew how she felt by the way she squeezed his hand.

"Ain't we?" he asked again.

"Some time," answered Jinnie limply.

"Did the black man say we could go, Jinnie?" the boy demanded.

Jinnie patted his head comfortingly.

"I hope he'll take us home soon," she remarked, trying to put full a.s.surance into her tones.

Bobbie zigzagged back to the divan, drew himself upon it, and Jinnie knew by his abstracted manner that he was turning the matter over in his busy little brain.

Two hours later, when Jordan Morse came in, the child was still sitting in the same position, and the man beckoned the girl into the other room.

"Grandoken's trial is to start this afternoon within an hour," he informed her. "You'll be here to-day and to-morrow. You see the court won't be long in proving the cobbler's guilt."

If he had expected her to cry, he was mistaken. She was past crying, seemingly having shed all of her tears.

"He didn't do it," she averred stubbornly. "I know he didn't."

In justice to Lafe, she always reiterated this.

Morse gave a sinister laugh.

"What you know or don't know won't matter," he responded, and looking at the angry, beautiful face, he e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed, "Thank G.o.d for that!"

Jinnie turned her back, but he requested her sharply to look at him.

"Have you told the boy where I'm going to take you?" he demanded, when she was eyeing him disdainfully.

"No."