nting, 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 analytical 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 damn bloke along
Paradise Road," he explained.

"Yes? Tell me about it."

"Oh, what's the use! Everybody's stickin' their noses in my business,
and it ain't nothin' to do with 'em uther."

"I might help you," suggested Jordan, seemingly interested.

"Ain't anybody c'n help me," sulked Maudlin. "Got the richest man in
town 'gainst me, and money's what makes the mare go."

The words "richest man" startled Morse, but he only said, "That's so!
But tell me just the same."

"Aw, it's only a wench I wanted! A mutt by the name of King butted in
on me."

Jordan Morse mentally congratulated himself that he had struck the
right nail on the head the very first whack.

To gain possession of Jinnie's money meant finding his boy, and that
was the dearest wish of his heart.

"You might tell me about it,