as still
sitting in the same position, and the man beckoned the girl into the
other room.

"Grandoken's trial is to start this afternoon within an hour," he
informed her. "You'll be here to-day and to-morrow. You see the court
won't be long in proving the cobbler's guilt."

If he had expected her to cry, he was mistaken. She was past crying,
seemingly having shed all of her tears.

"He didn't do it," she averred stubbornly. "I know he didn't."

In justice to Lafe, she always reiterated this.

Morse gave a sinister laugh.

"What you know or don't know won't matter," he responded, and looking
at the angry, beautiful face, he ejaculated, "Thank God for that!"

Jinnie turned her back, but he requested her sharply to look at him.

"Have you told the boy where I'm going to take you?" he demanded, when
she was eyeing him disdainfully.

"No."

"I never knew a woman before who could hold her tongue," he commented
in sarcasm.

Jinnie didn't heed the compliment.

"When he asks you questions, what do you tell him?"

"That you will come for us soon."

"I will, all right."

Jinnie went nearer him.

"Where are you going to take him?"

Morse shrugged his shoulders.

"You'll know in time," said he.

How ominous his words were, and how his eyes narrowed as he looked at
her! She was thoroughly afraid of that tone in his voice. Her own fate
she was sure of, but Bobbie--desperation filled her soul. She would
beg Morse to let him go back to Peggy.

Lifting clasped hands, she walked very close to him.

"You're going to have all my money," she said with emphasis. "I've
done everything I can, and I'll make Bobbie promise not to say a word
to any one if you'll take him to Mrs. Grandoken."

Morse shook his head.

"Too dangerous," he replied, and he went out without a glance at the
blind boy on the divan.

Once more alone with Bobbie, Jinnie sat down to think. How could she
rescue him from this awful position? How get him back to Peggy?
Somehow she felt that if she could be sure the little boy was safe,
she could go away to the place Morse had described with at least a
little relief. That day Lafe's accusers were to try him before a
jury----. She had almost lost hope for the cobbler--he was lame, had
no friends, and was a Jew, one of the hated race. She knew how the
people of Bellaire despised the Jews. For Peggy she didn't worry so
much. Jordan Morse had given his solemn promise that, if Lafe died in
the electric