Now Peggy didn't believe in spoiling men or children, but one morning, as she tied a scarf about Jinnie's neck, she arranged the black curls with more than usual tenderness. Pausing at the door and looking back at the woman, Jinnie suddenly threw up her head in determination. "I love you, Peggy," she said, drawing in a long breath. "Give me a little kiss, will you?" There! The cat was out of the bag. In another instant Jinnie would know her fate. How she dared to ask such a thing the girl could never afterwards tell. If Peg kissed her, work would be easy. If she denied her----Peggy glanced at her, then away again, her eyes shifting uneasily. But after once taking a stand, Jinnie held her ground. Her mouth was pursed up as if she was going to whistle. Would Peg refuse such a little request? Evidently Peggy would, for she scoffingly ordered. "Go along with you, kid--go long, you flip little brat!" "I'd like a kiss awful much," repeated Jinnie, still standing. Her voice was low-toned and pleading, her blue eyes questioningly on Peg's face. Peg shook her head. "I won't kiss you 'cause I hate you," she sniffed. "I've always hated you." Jinnie's eyes filled with tears. "I know it," she replied sadly, "I know it, but I'd like a kiss just the same because--because I _do_ love _you_, Peg." A bit of the same sentiment that had worried her for over a year now attacked Mrs. Grandoken. Her common sense told her to dash away to the kitchen, but a tugging in her breast kept her anchored to the spot. Suddenly, without a word, she snatched the girl close to her broad breast and pressed her lips on Jinnie's with resounding smacks. "There! There! And _there_!" she cried, between the kisses. "An' if y' ever tell a soul I done it, I'll scrape every inch of skin off'n your flesh, an' mebbe I'll do something worse, I hate y' that bad." In less seconds than it takes to tell it, Peg let Jinnie go, and the girl went out of the door with a smiling sigh. "Kisses 're sweeter'n roses," she murmured, walking to the track. "I wish I'd get more of 'em." She turned back as she heard Peg's voice calling her. "You might toddle in an' bring home a bit of sausage," said the woman, indifferently, "an' five cents' worth of chopped steak." Mrs. Grandoken watched Jinnie until she turned the corner. She felt a strangling sensation in her throat. A little later she flung the kitchen utensils from place to place, and otherwise acted so ugly and out of temper that, had Lafe known the whole incident, he would have smiled knowingly at the far-off hill and held his peace. Late in the afternoon Jinnie counted seventeen pennies, one dime and a nickel. It was a fortune for any girl to make, and what was better yet, buckled to her young shoulders in the shortwood strap was almost her next day's supply. As she replaced the money in her pocket and walked toward the market, she murmured gravely, "Mebbe Peg's kisses helped me to get it, but--but I musn't forget Lafe's prayers."