"Now I'd like to know if God didn't make me, And cause me to live and all that? I believe there's a place for nobody's child, And also for nobody's cat." Mr. Grandoken lifted misty eyes. "It's fine," he said, "an' every word true!... Every single word." The next morning Jinnie went to the basket behind the stove. The cat was dead,--dead, in the same position in which she had left him the night before, and close to his nose was the meat Peggy had tried to entice him to eat. She lifted the basket and carried it into the shop. "Poor little feller," said Lafe. "I 'spose you'll have to bury him, lass." Bobbie edged forward, and felt for Jinnie's fingers. "Bury him on the hill, dearie, where you found me," he whispered. "It's lovely there, and he can see my stars." "All right," replied Jinnie, dropping her hand on the boy's golden head. That afternoon, just before the funeral, Jinnie stood quietly in front of the cobbler. "Lafe," she said, looking at him appealingly, "the kitty's happy even if he is dead, isn't he?" "Sure," replied Lafe. "His angels've got charge of him, all right." "I was wondering something," ventured the girl, thoughtfully. "Couldn't we take him in the 'Happy in Spite'?... Eh, Lafe?" Lake looked at her in surprise. "I never thought of takin' anything dead in the club," said he dubiously. "But he's happy, you said, Lafe?" "He's happy enough, yes, sure!" "Then let's take him in," repeated Jinnie eagerly. "Let's take 'im in, cobbler," breathed Bobbie, pressing forward. "He wants to come in." They lifted the cover of the basket, and there in quietude the barn-cat was sleeping his long last sleep. Jinnie lifted one of the stiff little paws, and placed it in Lafe's fingers. The cobbler shook it tenderly. "You're in the club, sir," said he in a thick, choked voice. Then Jinnie and Bobbie, carrying their precious dead comrade, started for the hill. CHAPTER XXIV "HE MIGHT EVEN MARRY HER" "I don't see why you must have her out of the way entirely," hesitated Molly Merriweather, looking up into Jordan Morse's face. "Couldn't you send her to some girls' place?" "Now you don't know anything about it, Molly," answered the man impatiently. "If she doesn't disappear absolutely, the cobbler and Theodore'll find her." "That's so," said Molly, meditatively, "but it seems horrible----" Morse interrupted her with a sarcastic laugh. "That's what Theodore would think, and more, too, if he thought any one was going to harm a hair of the child's head." Molly flamed red. "To save her, he might even marry her," Morse went on relentlessly. Molly gestured negatively. "He wouldn't. He couldn't!" she cried stormily. She had never permitted herself to face such a catastrophe save when she was angry. Jordan Morse contemplated his wife a short space of time. "I can't understand your falling in love with a man who hasn't breathed a word of affection for you," he said tentatively.