"His addin' up ain't nothin' to his credit, Jasper," he protested. "He's as crooked as a ram's horn an' you know it. If you don't, take my word for it! There ain't nothin' doin' for him far's Jinnie's concerned!... I sent for you to bargain with you." Jasper pricked up his ears. The word "bargain" always attracted him. "Well?" he questioned. "You keep your boy from my girl and I'll do all your family cobblin' for nothin' till Jinnie's a woman." Bates leaned back in his chair and crossed his legs. "It's a bargain, all right. Them kids of mine do wear out the soles of their shoes some. But, Lafe, I can't tag Maudlin around all day." Lafe took up his hammer. "Lick him if he won't mind you, Bates. He's got to let my girl be, and that's all there is to it." Saying this, he started to work, giving the shortwood gatherer his dismissal. Bates left his chair thoughtfully. "I'll talk to Maudie," said he, "but he's an onery kid; has been ever since his mother died. He don't git along with his stepma very well, and she's got such a lot of little kids of 'er own she ain't time to train no hulk of a boy like Maudlin." Pausing a moment, he went on, "Maudlin's been madder'n hell because that duffer King's been haulin' Jinnie's wood. He says----" "It ain't any of Maudlin's business who helps Jinnie," interrupted Lafe. "If you got any shoes needin' fixin', tote 'em over, Jasper." Bates left the shop and Lafe fell to work vigorously. * * * * * Maudlin Bates stood at the path leading to the marshes. He was waiting for Jinnie to appear with her load of shortwood. To the young wood gatherer, a woman was created for man's special benefit, and a long time ago he had made up his mind that Jinnie should be his woman. He was leaning against a tree when the girl came in sight, with her wood-strap on her shoulders. She paid no attention to him, and was about to turn into Paradise Road when the man stepped in front of her. "Wait a minute, Jinnie," he wheedled. Jinnie threw him a disdainful glance. "I can't wait. I'm in a hurry," she replied, and she hoped the fellow would go on before the car arrived. Young Bates' face was crossed by an obstinate expression. "I'm goin' to find out," he said, gruffly, "why you're ridin' in rich folks' motor cars." "Isn't anything to you," snapped Jinnie. The wood gatherer came so close that he forced her back a step on the marsh path. Her disdainful eyes had drawn him to her, for, like all men, he could be drawn by the woman who scorned him, and mesmerized by the sheer repulse. By great effort, Jinnie had escaped from Maudlin's insults for many months, but he had never been quite so aggressive as this! Now she could see the dark blood in his passionate face mount even to the whites of his eyes, those eyes which coveted the youngness of her body, the vitality of her girl life, and all the good within her.