to this child again."

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.

"I wanted to see your uncle to-day," he explained, without waiting for
the question which he read in Jinnie's eyes, "so I came over myself
instead of sending Bennett.... There, child! Don't tremble so! Never
mind the wood."

Jinnie hung back.

"I've got to sell it to you this afternoon," she murmured brokenly.
"Peg's got to have the money."

"We've enough at home until to-morrow.... Wait until to-morrow."

Jinnie looked longingly at the wood.

"Somebody'll take it," she objected, "and it's awful hard to gather."

A grip of pain stabbed Theodore's heart. This slender, beautiful girl,
rosy with health and genius, should gather wood no more for any one in
the world.... To soothe her, he said:

"I'll come by and pick it up on my way back.... Come along."

He lifted her into the car, and they moved slowly through Paradise
Road, and drew up before the cobbler's shop.

Lafe put down his hammer as they entered, and bade King take a chair.
Jinnie sat weakly on the bench beside Mr. Grandoken. He took her hand,
and the loving pressure brought forth a storm of outraged tears.

"'Twas Maudlin, Lafe," she wept.

Then her arms stole around the cobbler. "The angels sent Mr. King!...
Lafe, Lafe, save me from Maudlin! He--he----"

Theodore King rose to his feet, his face paling. 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.

On hearing this, Jinnie lifted her head, and Lafe bowed.

"Thank you, sir," said he.

"I don't approve of her going into the marshes alone to gather wood,"
continued Mr. King. "She's too young, too----"

"I don't uther, sir," interrupted Lafe sadly, "but we've got to
live."

Not heeding the cobbler's explanation, Theodore proceeded
deliberately.

"She plays too well on the violin not to have all the tra