"Come here, boy," ordered Morse. "Get up and come here." Bobbie turned his delicate, serious face in the direction of the voice. "I don't want to," he gulped, shaking his head. "I don't like you, Mister Black Man. I can't get up anyway, my heart hurts too much!" Still the girl stood with the vision of Theodore King before her. "I won't write it, I won't," she droned to herself insistently. Morse sprang forward and grasped the child. "Get up," he hissed. Bobbie scrambled up because he was made to. He uttered a frightened, terrified cry. Then, "Jinnie!" he gasped. Jinnie saw Morse shake the slender little body and drop into a chair, dragging the child forward. Bobbie could no longer speak. The dazed girl knew the little heart was beating in its very worst terror. She couldn't bear the sight and closed her eyes for an instant. When she opened them, Morse's hand was raised above the boy's golden head, but she caught it in hers before it descended. "I'll do it," she managed to whisper. "Look! Look! You've killed him." In another moment she had Bobbie in her arms, his face pressed against her breast. "Get out of here!" she said, deathly white, to Morse. "I'll do it, come back to-morrow." And Morse was glad to escape. After Jinnie brought Bobbie to his senses and he lay like a crumpled leaf on the divan, she took up the hated letter. She sat down to read it once more. It was short, concise, and to the point. * * * * * "MR. KING: "I made a mistake in ever thinking I cared for you. I have some one else now I love better, and expect to be very happy with him. "JINNIE GRANDOKEN." * * * * * The next morning when Morse came jauntily in, she handed him the copy of it without a word. He only said to her: "You'd have saved yourself a lot of trouble if you'd done this in the first place. You won't bother me long now. Mr. King is home and almost well." Then he smiled, showing his white, even teeth. "He'll be glad to receive this letter." "Get out," Jinnie gritted. "Get out before I--I kill you!" * * * * * Two days later Molly Merriweather was in the seventh heaven of bliss. As Morse had said, Theodore was home, looking more like himself. With her heart in her mouth, the woman entered his sitting room with Jinnie's letter. Jordan had had it mailed to King from Binghamton. "I've brought you a letter, Theodore," smiled Molly nervously. He extended his hand, and upon recognizing the handwriting, turned deadly white. "I'd like to be alone," said he without looking up. When he sent for her a little while later, and she sat opposite him, he said: "I'd rather not speak of--of--Miss Grandoken again. Will you give me a drink, Molly?" And the woman noted the hurt look in his eyes. CHAPTER XLVI "BUST 'EM OUT"