Jinnie stole in and looked long upon her friend through the iron-latticed door. The smile that played with the dimples in her cheeks and the dancing shadows in the violet eyes indicated her happiness. Lafe looked older and thinner than ever before, and her heart sang when she thought of the news she had to tell him. She longed to pronounce his name, to take away the far-away expression that seemed to hold him in deep meditation. During her tramp to the jail she'd concocted a fairy story to bring a smile to the cobbler's lips. So at length: "Lafe," she whispered. Mr. Grandoken's head came up quickly, and he turned the chair and wheeled toward her. There was the same question in his eyes that had been there for so many days, and Jinnie smiled broadly. "Lafe," she began mysteriously, "a great big bird flew right into the house last night. He flopped in to get out of the storm!" "A bird?" repeated Lafe, startled. "Yes, and everybody says it's awful good luck." Lafe's expression grew tragic, and Jinnie hurried on with her tale. "I'll bet you can't guess what kind of a bird 'twas, Lafe." Lafe shook his head. "I can't lessen 'twas a robin," said he. Jinnie giggled. "My, no! He was a heap bigger'n a robin. Guess again!" Such chatter from Jinnie was unusual, especially of late, but Lafe bore it patiently. "I can't," he sighed, shaking his head. Jinnie clapped her hands. "I knew you couldn't! Well, Lafe, it was a--a----" "Yes?" queried Lafe wearily, during her hesitation. "Well, Jinnie?" "It was a great, big, beautiful white stork, Lafe, and he brought you a new Jew baby. What'd you think of that?" "Jinnie, girl, lass, you ain't tellin' me----" "Yes, dear, he's there, as big as life and twice as natural, Peg says.... Of course," she rambled on, "the stork went away, but the Jew baby--to make a long story short, he's with----" "His ma, eh, dear?" interjected Lafe. "How's Peg, honey?" "Oh, she's fine," replied Jinnie, "and I've a lot to tell you, dearest." "Begin," commanded Lafe, with wide, bright eyes. Jinnie commenced by telling how lovely the baby was. Of course she didn't rehearse Peg's suffering. It wouldn't do any good. "And the baby looks like you, Lafe," she observed. "Does he really?" gasped Lafe, trying to smile. "He's got your Jew look 'round his nose," added Jinnie gravely. "You wanted him to look like you, didn't you, Lafe?" "Sure, Jinnie. And now about Peggy? Tell me about Peggy." "Peggy's with us, Lafe----" Jinnie stopped and drew a long breath. "What'd you think? Oh--guess!" "I couldn't! Tell me, Jinnie! Don't keep me waitin' for good things." "Peggy's in the 'Happy in Spite', and I'm learning her all the verses you taught me." Then Lafe's head dropped on his hands and tears trickled through his fingers. "I wish I could see her," he groaned deeply. "When she gets well, you can," promised Jinnie, "and mebbe the baby." Lafe's head was raised quickly and his eyes sparkled.