aming his face. "My legs'll go faster'n
anything."

And "faster'n anything" those thin little legs did go. The boy trotted
along beside his friend, down the hill to the flats. Jinnie chose a
back street leading to the lower end of the town.

"I'd better carry you a while, dearie," she offered presently, noting
with what difficulty he breathed. "You take the fiddle!" And without
remonstrance from the boy she lifted him in her arms.

From the tracks Lafe's small house had the appearance of being
unoccupied. Jinnie went in, walking from the shop to the kitchen,
where she called "Peggy!" two or three times. Then the thought of the
cobbler's trial rushed over her. Peggy and the baby were at court with
Lafe, of course.

Knowing she must face her uncle in the courtroom, she went to Lafe's
black box and drew forth the sealed letter her father had sent to
Grandoken. This she hid in her dress, and taking Bobbie and the
fiddle, she went out and closed the door.

Another long walk brought them to the courthouse, which stood in
solemn stone silence, with one side to the dark, iron-barred jail.
Jinnie shivered when she thought of the weary months Lafe had sat
within his gloomy cell.

She entered the building, holding Bobbie's hand. Every seat in the
room was filled, and a man was making a speech, using the names of
Maudlin Bates and Lafe Grandoken.

Then she looked about once more, craning her neck to catch sight of
those ahead. Her eyes fell first upon Lafe, God bless him! There he
sat, her cobbler, in the same old wheelchair, wearing that look of
benign patience so familiar to her. Only a little distance from him
sat Peggy, the baby sleeping on her knees. 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. She felt sorry,
sorry for any one who was in trouble, who had lost a son in such a
manner as Jasper had. Then she awoke to the import of the lawyer's
words.

"Before you, Gentlemen of the Jury," he was saying, "is a murderer, a
Jew, Lafe Grandoken. You know very well the reputation of the people
on Paradise Road. The good book says 'a life for a life.' This Jew
shot and killed his neighbor----"

Jinnie lost his next words. She was looking at Lafe, and saw his