“Jinnie, ain’t we ever goin’ back to Peggy?” Bobbie asked one day, his eyes rolling upward. His small face was seamed with questioning anxiety.

The girl drew him to her lap.

How many times Jinnie had asked that question of herself! How she longed for Paradise Road, with its row of shacks, Peggy and the baby! Bobby knew how she felt by the way she squeezed his hand.

“Ain’t we?” he asked again.

“Some time,” answered Jinnie limply.

“Did the black man say we could go, Jinnie?” the boy demanded.

Jinnie patted his head comfortingly.

“I hope he’ll take us home soon,” she remarked, trying to put full assurance into her tones.

Bobbie zigzagged back to the divan, drew himself upon it, and Jinnie knew by his abstracted manner that he was turning the matter over in his busy little brain.

Two hours later, when Jordan Morse came in, the child was still sitting in the same position, and the man beckoned the girl into the other room.

“Grandoken’s trial is to start this afternoon within an hour,” he informed her. “You’ll be here to-day and to-morrow. You see the court won’t be long in proving the cobbler’s guilt.” 317

If he had expected her to cry, he was mistaken. She was past crying, seemingly having shed all of her tears.

“He didn’t do it,” she averred stubbornly. “I know he didn’t.”

In justice to Lafe, she always reiterated this.

Morse gave a sinister laugh.

“What you know or don’t know won’t matter,” he responded, and looking at the angry, beautiful face, he ejaculated, “Thank God for that!”

Jinnie turned her back, but he requested her sharply to look at him.

“Have you told the boy where I’m going to take you?” he demanded, when she was eyeing him disdainfully.

“No.”

“I never knew a woman before who could hold her tongue,” he commented in sarcasm.

Jinnie didn’t heed the compliment.

“When he asks you questions, what do you tell him?”

“That you will come for us soon.”

“I will, all right.”

Jinnie went nearer him.

“Where are you going to take him?”

Morse shrugged his shoulders.

“You’ll know in time,” said he.

How ominous his words were, and how his eyes narrowed as he looked at her! She was thoroughly afraid of that tone in his voice. Her own fate she was sure of, but Bobbie—desperation filled her soul. She would beg Morse to let him go back to Peggy.

Lifting clasped hands, she walked very close to him.

“You’re going to have all my money,” she said with emphasis. “I’ve done everything I can, and I’ll make Bobbie promise not to say a word to any one if you’ll take him to Mrs. Grandoken.” 318

Morse shook his head.

“Too dangerous,” he replied, and he went out without a glance at the blind boy on the divan.

Once more alone with Bobbie, Jinnie sat down to think. How could she rescue him from this awful position? How get him back to Peggy? Somehow she felt that if she could be sure the little boy was safe, she could go away to the place Morse had described with at least a little relief. That day Lafe’s accusers were to try him before a jury––. She had almost lost hope for the cobbler—he was lame, had no friends, and was a Jew, one of the hated race. She knew how the people of Bellaire despised the Jews. For Peggy she didn’t worry so much. Jordan Morse had given his solemn promise that, if Lafe died in the electric chair—and she died to the world—he would be of financial assistance to Peggy.

She sat studying Bobbie attentively. The child’s face was pathetically white and she could see the quick palpitation of his heart under his jacket.

“I heard what the black man said, Jinnie,” Bobbie blurted presently, sinking in a little heap. “I mean when he had you in the other room a little while ago. You was beggin’ him to help me; wasn’t you, Jinnie?”

Jinnie went to him quickly and gathered him into her arms.

“Bobbie,” she implored, “you must never let him know, never, never, that you heard him talking. He might hurt you worse than he has.”

Bobbie flashed his eyes questioningly in evident terror.

“What’d he hurt me more for? I ain’t done nothin’ to him.”

“I guess because he’s bad, dear,” said Jinnie sadly.

“Then if he’s bad, why do you stay here?” He clung to her tremulously. “Take me away, Jinnie!” 319

“I can’t!” lamented Jinnie. “I’ve told you, Bobbie, the door’s locked.”

She could lovingly deceive him no longer.

How the little body trembled! How the fluttering hands sought her aid in vain!

“My stars’re all gone, Jinnie,” sobbed Bobbie. “My beautiful stars! I can’t see any of ’em if I try. I’m awful ’fraid, honey dear. It’s so dark.”

Jinnie tightened her arms about him, racking her brain for soothing words.

“But Lafe’s God is above the dark, Bobbie,” she whispered reverently. “We’ve got to believe it, dearie! God is back up there ... just up there.”

She took his slender forefinger and pointed upward.

“How does God look, Jinnie? Just how does he look?”

“I’ve never seen him,” admitted the girl, “but I think, Bobbie, I think he looks like Lafe. I know he smiles like him anyway.”

“I’m glad,” sighed the boy. “Then He’ll help us, won’t He? Lafe would if he could. If you say He will, He will, Jinnie!”

Five tense minutes passed in silence. Then: “Sure we couldn’t get out of the window, dearie?” asked Bobbie.

“They’re locked, too,” answered the girl, low-toned.

“I’d bust ’em out,” volunteered the boy, with sudden enthusiasm.

“But there’s a deep gorge in front of every one, honey,” replied Jinnie sadly.

Yet Bobbie’s words—“bust ’em out”—took hold of her grippingly, and the thought of leaving that unbearable place was like a tonic to the frantic girl. She crossed the room rapidly and examined the window panes. But even if she could break them, as Bobbie suggested, the water below would receive their bodies, and death would follow. 320 If it were a street, she might manage. Yet the sight of the flowing water, the dark depths between the ragged rocks, did not send Bobbie’s words, “bust ’em out,” from her mind. If they fell together, the boy would never be tortured any more. To-morrow Jordan Morse would be in the courtroom all day. To-morrow––God, dear God! She seemed to hear Lafe’s monotone, “There’s always to-morrow, Jinnie.”

She was called upon to think, to act alone in a tragic way. Of course she would be killed if she jumped into the deep gorge with the child and Happy Pete. She tried to think, to plan, but after the manner of all believing sufferers, could only pray.

Bobbie need fear no evil! “Angels have been given charge over him, and Bobbie shall not want,” Jinnie whispered, her mind spinning around like a child’s top. A sudden faith boomed at the portals of her soul. What was the use of asking help for Bobbie if she didn’t have faith in an answer?

To-day would bring forth a plan for to-morrow. To-morrow Bobbie would be saved from Jordan Morse. To-morrow would end his terror in the gorge house. To-morrow—she would be eighteen years old!

“Bobbie,” she entreated, going to the child swiftly, “Bobbie, do you remember any prayers Lafe taught you?”

The child bobbed his head.

“Sure,” he concurred. “‘Now I lay me’ and ‘Our Father which art in Heaven.’... I know them, Jinnie.”

“Then sit upon the divan again and say them over and over, and pray for Lafe, and that you’ll get out of here and be happy. You mustn’t tell Mr. Morse if he comes, but I’m going to try to get you out of the window.” 321

As she stood in the gathering gloom and peered into the water below, Jinnie could hear the child lisping his small petitions.

At that moment a new faith came for herself. Lafe’s angels would save her, too, from Jordan Morse’s revenge.

At ten-thirty the next morning Morse came. With trepidation Jinnie heard him open the door. He was extremely nervous and stayed only a few moments.

“I’ve got to be in court at eleven,” he explained, “and I’ll come for you both about ten this evening. Be ready, you and the boy, and remember what I told you!”

When they were alone once more, she sat down beside the blind child and placed her arm around him.

“Bobbie, will you do exactly what I tell you?”

“Sure,” responded Bobbie, cheerfully. “Are we goin’ home?”

Without answering him, Jinnie said:

“Then take Happy Pete and don’t move until I get back. Just pray and pray and pray! That’s all.”

Happy Pete snuggled his head under Bobbie’s arm and they both sat very still. The boy scarcely dared to breathe, he was so anxious to please his Jinnie.

The farthest window in the inner room door seemed to be the best one to attack. If Morse surprised her, it would be easier to cover up her work. With a frantic prayer on her lips, she took off her shoe and gave the pane of glass one large, resounding blow. It cracked in two, splinters not only flying into the room, but tumbling into the gorge below. Then she hastily hammered away every particle of glass from the frame, and, shoving her shoulders through, looked out and down. The very air seemed filled with angels. They could and would save her and Bobbie even in the water—even if they were within the suction of the falls there, some distance below and 322 beyond. Then her eyes swept over the side of the building, and she discovered a stone ledge wide enough for a human being to crawl along. Would she dare try it with her loved ones? She distinctly remembered seeing a painter’s paraphernalia in the front, and they might be there still! The more she thought, the greater grew her hope, and with this growing hope came a larger faith. At least she’d find what was at the end of the building away off there to the east.

To-day, yes, now!... She couldn’t wait, for her uncle was coming to-night. It must be now, this minute. She went back to Bobbie.

“I’m going to try it, darling,” she told him, kissing his cheek. “Sit right here until I get back. Hang to Petey. He might follow me.”

Then cautiously she dragged her body through the hole in the window, and began to crawl along the stone ledge. The roar of the water on the rocks below made her dizzy. But over and over did she cry into God’s ever listening ear:

“He has given—he has given his angels—angels charge over thee.”

Jinnie reached the corner of the building, and looked out over the city. The ledge extended around the other side of the building, and she turned the corner and went slowly onward. At the south end she stopped still, glancing about.

Only one thing of any value was in the range of her vision. The two long ropes she had seen long before were still hanging from the roof and fastened securely to a large plank almost on the ground. It brought to Jinnie’s mind what Lafe had told her,—of Jimmie Malligan who had been killed, and of how he himself had lost his legs.

Could she, by means of the rope, save the three precious 323 things back in that awful room—Bobbie, Happy Pete, and her fiddle?

To be once more under God’s sun with the blue above gave her new strength. Then she turned and crawled slowly back.

At the corner she grew faint-hearted. It must have been the gorge below that made her breath come in catching sobs. But on and on she went until through the window she could see Bobbie with Happy Pete asleep in his arms. The child was still muttering over his little prayers, his blind eyes rolling in bewildered anxiety.

Jinnie was very white when she sat down beside him. Putting her face close to his, she brushed his cheek lovingly.

“Bobbie,” she said, touching his hair with her lips, “how much do you love Jinnie?”

“More’n all the world,” replied Bobbie without hesitation.

“Then if you love me that much, you’ll do just what I tell you.”

“Yes,” Bobbie assured her under his breath.

Jinnie took a towel—she couldn’t find a rope—and strapped the violin to Bobbie’s back.

“I’ve got to take my fiddle with me, dearie,” she explained, “and I can’t carry it because I’ve got you. You can’t carry it because you’ve got to hold Happy Pete.... Now, then, come on!”

Jinnie drew the reluctant, trembling child to his feet and permitted him to feel around the window-sash; she also held him tightly while he measured the stone ledge with his fingers.

“I’m awful ’fraid,” he moaned, drooping.

Jinnie feared he was going to have another fainting spell. To ward it off, she said firmly: 324

“Bobbie, you want to see Lafe, don’t you?”

“S’awful much,” groaned Bobbie.

“Then don’t hold your breath.” She saw him stagger, and grasping him, cried out “Breathe, Bobbie, breathe! We’re going to Peggy.”

Bobbie began to breathe naturally, and a beatific smile touched the corners of his lips.

“I got so many stars to-day, Jinnie,” he quavered, “one slipped right down my throat.”

“But you mustn’t be scared again, Bobbie! If we stay, the black man’ll come back and shake you again and take us to some place that’ll make us both sick. You just keep on praying, and I will, too.... Now, then, I’m going out, and when I say, ‘Ready,’ you crawl after me.”

“What’s that noise?” shivered Bobbie, clutching Happy Pete.

“It’s water,” answered Jinnie, “water in the gorge.”

Bobbie’s teeth chattered. “Do we have to jump in it?”

“No, I’m going to take you down a rope.”

With that she crawled through the hole, and when once on the stone ledge, she put her hand in on the boy’s head.

“Lift up your leg and hang tight to Petey,” she shuddered, and the blind boy did as he was bidden, and Jinnie pulled him, with the dog and fiddle, through the opening. She put him on his knees in front of her with her arms tightly about him.

“Jinnie, Jinnie!” moaned Bobbie. “My heart’s jumpin’ out of my mouth!”

Jinnie pressed her teeth together with all her might and main, shivering so in terror that she almost lost the strength of her arms.

“Don’t think about your heart,” she implored, “and don’t shake so! Just think that you’re going to Lafe and Peg.” 325

Then they began their long, perilous journey to the corner of the building. It must have taken twenty minutes. Jinnie had no means by which to mark the time. She only knew how difficult it was to keep the blind child moving, with the water below bellowing its stormy way down the rock-hill to the lake. Happy Pete gave a weird little cry now and then. But on and on they went, and at the corner Jinnie spoke:

“Bobbie, we’ve got to turn here. Let your body go just as I shove it.”

Limp was no word for Bobbie’s body. He was dreadfully tired. His heart thumped under Jinnie’s arms like a battering-ram.

“Bobbie, don’t breathe that way, don’t!” she entreated.

“I can’t help it, honey! my side hurts,” he whispered. “But I’ll go where you take me, Jinnie dear.”

The girl turned him carefully around the sharp ledge corner, and they went on again. Her arms seemed almost paralyzed, but they clung to the child ahead, and the child ahead clung to the little dog, who hung very straight and inert in front of his body.

When they reached the south corner, Jinnie explained their next move to Bobbie in this way:

“Now listen,” she told him. “You get on my back with your legs under my arms, hang to me like dear life, and keep Happy Pete between us. Don’t hurt him if you can help it.”

They were within touch of one of the dangling ropes and far below Jinnie saw the swaying plank to which it was fastened. Once on that board, she could get to the ground.

Then she continued: “Now while I lean over, you get on my back.”

As she guided his slender hands, she felt them cold 326 within her own, but in obedience to her command, Bobbie put his legs about her, one arm around her neck, and with the other held Happy Pete.

“We won’t fall, will we, Jinnie?” quavered the boy.

“No,” said Jinnie, helping to settle him on her back.

Then she crawled closer to the rope, took up her skirt and placed it about the rough hemp. She was afraid to use her bare hands. The rope might cut and burn them so dreadfully that she’d have to let go. With a wild inward prayer, she swung off into the air, with the boy, the dog and the fiddle on her back, and began her downward slide. She counted the windows as they passed, one, two, three, and then four. Only a little distance more before she would be upon firm ground. As her feet touched the plank, she glanced into the street and in that awful moment saw Jordan Morse crossing the corner diagonally, within but a few yards of where she stood, terrified.