not habitual to him, but at that moment a desire
possessed him to take her in his arms, to soothe her, to restore her
to Peggy and give her back to Theodore. But the murder scene in the
cobbler's shop came back with strong renewed vigor. He had gone too
far, and he must have money. Molly held him in her power, and as he
thought of her tightly set lips, the danger signal she had tossed at
him more times than once, he crushed dead his better feeling.

"Your plan won't work," he said slowly. "Write the letter--I am in a
hurry."

"I will not," she refused him once more.

Morse walked to the door, and she allowed him to open it. Then with
clenched hands she tottered after him. He was going to kill Bobbie and
herself. Somehow within her tortured being she was glad. Morse waited
and looked back, asking her a question silently.

She made no response, however, but cast her eyes upon the blind boy
sitting dejectedly upon the floor, one arm around Happy Pete.

"Jinnie," said Bobbie, rolling his eyes, "I was afraid you were goin'
to stay in there all day."

"Come here, boy," ordered Morse. "Get up and come here."

Bobbie turned his delicate, serious face in the direction of the
voice.

"I don't want to," he gulped, shaking his head. "I don't like you,
Mister Black Man. I can't get up anyway, my heart hurts too much!"

Still the girl stood with the vision of Theodore King before her.

"I won't write it, I won't," she droned to herself insistently.

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 do