Jinnie went to the door and there stood Molly Merriweather. The woman's face was white and drawn, her eyes darkly circled underneath. One glance at her and Jinnie lost her own color. "I want to speak with you just a moment," the woman said beseechingly. "May I come in?" Without answering, Jinnie backed into the room, which action Molly took as a signal to enter. She inclined her head haughtily to the cobbler. "Would you mind if I spoke to Miss Grandoken alone?" Lafe looked to Jinnie for acquiescence. "If Jinnie'll help me to the kitchen," he replied, "you can talk here. I'm a little unsteady on my feet yet, miss!" It took some time for the tottering legs to bear him away, but the strong, confident girl helped him most patiently. "You might just slip me the baby, Jinnie," said Lafe, after he was seated in the kitchen. "I could be lookin' at 'im while you're talkin'. You ain't mindin' the woman, honey lass, be you?" "No, dear," answered Jinnie. This done, the girl returned to Molly, who stood at the window staring out upon the tracks. She turned quickly, and Jinnie noticed her eyes were full of tears. "I suppose you won't refuse to tell me something of my--my little boy?" she pleaded. Tears welled over Jinnie's lids too. Bobbie's presence and adoration were still fresh in her mind. "He's dead," she mourned. "My little Bobbie! Poor little hurt Bobbie!" Molly made a passionate gesture with her gloved hands. "Don't, please don't say those things! I'm so miserable I can't think of him. I only wanted to know how you got him." "I just found him," stated Jinnie. Then, because Molly looked so white, she forgot the anguish the woman had caused her, and rehearsed the story of Bobbie's life from the time she had discovered him on the hill. "I guess he was always unhappy till he came to us." "And I helped to hurt him," cried Molly, shivering. "But you didn't know he was yours," soothed Jinnie. The woman shook her head. "No, of course I didn't know," she replied, and then went on rapidly: "I was so young when I married your uncle, I didn't know anything. When I lost my baby, I knew no way to search for him." "Won't you sit down?" Jinnie had forgotten that they were both standing. "Sit in that little rocker; it's Bobbie's," she finished. Molly looked at the little chair and turned away. "Lafe bought it for him," Jinnie explained eagerly. "He was too sick with his heart to get around much like other boys." Miss Merriweather wrung her hands. "Don't tell me any more," she begged piteously. "He's dead and nothing can help him now. I've--something else to say to you." Jinnie wiped her eyes. "Mr. King is quite well now, and----" "Oh, I'm glad!" cried Jinnie. "Does he--he ever speak of me?" Molly shook her head mutely. "I don't want him to see you!" she cried, her eyes growing hard and bright. "Why?" Jinnie said the one word in bewilderment.