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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 analytical glance. "What's your name?" he demanded. "Maudlin Bates. What's yours?"
The shortwood gatherer stood his ground until Theodore, with raised fist, was almost upon him. "I said to get out!" thundered Mr. King. With a baffled cry, Bates turned, rushed back into the marsh, and for several seconds they heard him beating down the brushwood as he ran. Theodore tenderly drew the girl into Paradise Road.
Jinnie let go the shortwood strap to fling aside her curls. Just at that moment she whirled nearer Maudlin Bates, who thrust forth his great foot and tripped her. As she staggered, not one of those watching had sense enough to catch her as she fell. At that moment the door swung open and Peg Grandoken's face appeared. She looked questioningly at the market man.
Jinnie's face grew waxen white, but she held her own for a few minutes. Maudlin was big in proportion to her slenderness, and in another instant her shortwood lay on the ground, and she was standing panting before him. "Now, then, just to show what kind of a feller I be," said he, "I'm goin' to kiss you." Jinnie felt cold chills running up and down her back.
Jinnie's thoughts were on the shortwood strap, but she didn't mention it. Oh, how she would work for money to give Peg with which to buy food! How happy she would be in the absolute ownership of the boy she had discovered in the hills! Tenderly she drew him to her. He seemed so pitifully helpless. "How old 're you?" she demanded. "Nine years old."
She was making the strap to peddle shortwood, and a happier girl never breathed. Peg watched her without comment as Lafe fitted the strap about her shoulders. In fact, there was nothing for the woman to say, when the violet eyes were fixed questioningly upon her.
Her mornings were spent gathering shortwood, her afternoons in selling it, but the hours outside these money-earning duties were passed between her fiddle and her books. The cobbler often remarked that her mumbling over those difficult lessons at his side taught him more than he'd ever learned in school. Sometimes when they were having heart-to-heart talks, Jinnie confided to him her ambitions.
Some one'll turn up, sure." "When they do, my man," Peg said quickly, "don't be takin' any credit to yourself, 'cause you hadn't ought to take credit for the plannin' your sharp brains do." As he shook his head, smiling, she left him quickly and shut the door. Thus for one year Jinnie went forth in the morning to gather her shortwood, and to sell it in the afternoon.
She turned hastily. There before her was her King, the man she had met on that memorable night more than two years before. He doffed his cap smiling, recognizing her immediately, and Jinnie flushed to the roots of her hair, while the shortwood strap slipped slowly from her shoulders. "Ah, you have something to sell?" he interrogated. Jinnie's tongue clove to the roof of her mouth.
"It's a bargain, all right. Them kids of mine do wear out the soles of their shoes some. But, Lafe, I can't tag Maudlin around all day." Lafe took up his hammer. "Lick him if he won't mind you, Bates. He's got to let my girl be, and that's all there is to it." Saying this, he started to work, giving the shortwood gatherer his dismissal. Bates left his chair thoughtfully.
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