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She knew then she was destined to encounter the tragedy of Morse's terrific vengeance, and no longer wondered why her father had succumbed to his force. He stood looking at her, his gaze taking in the young form avidiously. "You're the most beautiful girl in the world," he averred presently. Jinnie's blue eyes narrowed angrily. However, in spite of her rage, she was terribly frightened.
King would like to see you this morning." Jinnie's heart seemed to climb into her throat. "Mr. Theodore King?" she murmured. "Yes," said the young man. "I've got a car here. Will you come?" "Of course! Wait till I get my hat."
"Just like that!" he gasped, letting out the air. "And Lafe?" ventured Jinnie. "Lafe's awful bad off, I guess. Bates' little boy told me he was going to die " "No, Bobbie, no, he isn't!" Jinnie's voice was sharp in protestation. "Yes, he is!" insisted Bobbie. "Bates' boy told me so! He said Lafe wouldn't ever come back to the shop, 'cause everybody says he killed Maudlin."
"I hope you've progressed a lot." "She has, sir, she sure has," Lafe put in. "You'll be surprised! How long since you've heard her play?" "A long time," answered Theodore, and still forgetting Molly, he went on, "I wonder if you'd like to come to the house to-morrow to dinner and play for us. My mother was speaking about how much she'd enjoy it only a short time ago." Jinnie's eyes sparkled.
Molly the Merry was seated next to Jordan Morse, whose large white hand nervously clutched the back of the woman's chair. Several stern-looking men at a table had numerous papers over which they were bending. Then Jinnie's gaze found Jasper Bates. She could see, by the look upon his face, that he was suffering.
Lafe, smoothing Jinnie's head now buried in his breast, lifted misty eyes to the young man. "My poor baby! My poor little girl!" he stammered. "She has much to stand, sir." The other man took several nervous turns around the shop. Presently he paused near the cobbler and coughed in embarrassment. "I'm interested in doing something for your niece, Mr. Grandoken," said he lamely.
Go put the mush on that there stove!" Jinnie's heart was skipping about like a silly little kitten as she sat watching Peg's stiff fingers making large stitches in the lace. "Oh, Peg, isn't it lovely? Perfectly beautiful! Nobody ever had a dress like that!... My, Peggy! How your fingers fly!" Peg's face was noncommittal to the point of blankness.
To say that Lafe suffered, as Peggy repeated over and over to him the story of Jinnie's loving act, would be words of small import, and through the night hours, when the cobbler relieved his wife at the sick girl's bed, shapes black and forbidding rose before him, menacing the child he'd vowed to protect. Could it be that Maudlin Bates had anything to do with Jinnie's fall?
The cat was dead, dead, in the same position in which she had left him the night before, and close to his nose was the meat Peggy had tried to entice him to eat. She lifted the basket and carried it into the shop. "Poor little feller," said Lafe. "I 'spose you'll have to bury him, lass." Bobbie edged forward, and felt for Jinnie's fingers.
Jinnie's blue, blue eyes were seeking approbation from the gaunt, frowning woman. "None of you've got the sense of my bedpost," snapped Peg, sniffing the air. "Get along. They're waitin' for you." Jinnie arrived in great excitement at Theodore King's door. She stumbled up the stone steps of the mansion with the fiddle carefully wrapped under her arm. "Is Mr.
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