CHAPTER XLII
BOBBIE TAKES A TRIP
Jinnie had been gone two weeks. Nearly every day the postman brought aletter from the girl to Peggy, and after reading it several times toherself, she gave it to Blind Bobbie. Mrs. Grandoken had discoveredthis was the way to keep him quiet.
One afternoon the boy sat on the front steps of the cobbler's shop,sunning himself.
"You can hear Jinnie better when she comes," said Peg, as an excuse tocoax him out of doors. "Now sit there till I get back from themarket."
Bobbie had Happy Pete in his arms when he heard strange footstepswalking down the short flight of steps. He lifted his head as he hearda voice speak his name.
"Bobbie," it said softly. "Are you Bobbie?"
"Yes," replied the boy tremblingly.
The soft voice spoke again. "Do you want to see Jinnie?"
Bobbie clutched Happy Pete with one arm and struggled up, holding outa set of slender fingers that shook like small reeds in a storm.
"Yes, I want to see 'er," he breathed. "Do you know where she is?"
"If you'll come along with me, I'll take you to her. Bring the dog ifyou like."
"I want to see her to-day," stated Bobbie.
Jordan Morse took Bobbie's hand in his.
"Come on then, and don't make a noise," cautioned the man. "Put downthe dog; he'll follow you."
Once in Paradise Road, he stooped and lifted the slight boyish figureand walked quickly away. Beyond the turn in the road stood his car. Heplaced Bobbie and the dog on the seat beside him, and in anothermoment they were speeding toward the hill.
At that moment Jinnie was brooding over her violin. Her fiddle was heronly comfort in the lonely hours. The plaintive tones she drew from itwere the only sounds she heard, save the rushing water in the gorgeand the thrashing of the trees when the wind blew. The minutes hunglong on her hands, and the hours seemed to mock her as they draggedalong in interminable sequence. With her face toward the window, shepassed several hours composing a piece which had been in embryo in herheart for a long time. The solitude, the grandeur of the scenery, thewonderful lake with its curves and turns, sometimes made her forgetthe tragic future that lay before her.
She was just finishing with lingering, tender notes when Jordan Morsecame quickly through the corridor.
Bobbie stiffened in his arms suddenly.
"I hear Jinnie's fiddle," he gasped. "I'm goin' to my Jinnie."
When the key turned in the lock, the girl came to the door. At firstshe didn't notice the blind child, but her name, unsteadily called,brought her eyes to the little figure. Happy Pete recognized her witha wild yelp, wriggled himself past the other two, and whininglycrouched at her feet. Jinnie had them both in her arms before Morseturned the key again in the lock.
"Bobbie and Happy Pete!" she cried. Then she got up and flashedtearful eyes upon Morse.
"What did you bring them for? Did you tell Peg?"
"No, I didn't tell Peg and--and I brought him----" he paused andbeckoned her with an upward toss of his chin.
Jinnie followed him agitatedly.
"I brought him," went on Morse, "because I don't just like yourmanner. I brought him as a lever to move you with, miss."
Then he left hurriedly, something unknown within him stirring withlife. He decided afterward it was the sight of the blind child'sgolden head pressed against Jinnie's breast that had so upset him.
As he drove away, he crushed a desire to return again, to take themboth, boy and girl, back to the cobbler's shop. But he must not allowhis better emotions to attack him in this matter. He had known for along time Jinnie could be wielded through her affection for the lad.He thought of his own child somewhere in the world and what it meantto him to possess Jinnie's money, and set his teeth. He would bringthe girl to his terms through her love for the slender blind boy.
That day Jinnie wrote a letter to Peg, telling her that Bobbie waswith her, and Happy Pete, too.
The stolid woman had quite given way under the mysteriousdisappearance of the boy. When she returned home, she searched everylane leading to the marshes until dusk. In fact, she stumbled far intothe great waste place, calling his name over and over. He was the lastlink that held her to the days when Lafe had been in the shop, and Pegwould have given much if her conscience would cease lashing her sorelentlessly. It eased her anxiety a little when a new resolution wasborn in her stubborn heart. If they all came back to the shop, she'dmake up to them in some way for her ugly conduct. With this resolve,she went home to her own baby, sorrowful, dejected and lonely.
All the evening while Peg was mourning for them, Jinnie sat cuddlingBobbie, until the night put its dark hood on the ravine and closed itin a heavy gloom. Happy Pete, with wagging tail, leaned against theknees of the girl, and there the three of them remained in silenceuntil Bobbie, lifting his face, said quiveringly:
"Peggy almost died when you went away, Jinnie."
Jinnie felt her throat throb.
"Tell me about it," she said hoarsely.
"There ain't much to tell," replied the child, sighing, "only Peggywas lonely. She only had me and the baby, and I didn't have any starsand the baby's got no teeth."
"And the baby? Is he well, dear?" questioned Jinnie.
"Oh, fine!" the boy assured her. "He's growed such a lot. I felt hisface this morning, and oh, my, Jinnie, his cheeks puff out likethis!"
Bobbie gathered in a long breath, and puffed out his own thin, drawncheeks.
"Just like that!" he gasped, letting out the air.
"And Lafe?" ventured Jinnie.
"Lafe's awful bad off, I guess. Bates' little boy told me he was goingto die----"
"No, Bobbie, no, he isn't!" Jinnie's voice was sharp in protestation.
"Yes, he is!" insisted Bobbie. "Bates' boy told me so! He said Lafewouldn't ever come back to the shop, 'cause everybody says he killedMaudlin."
As the words left his lips, he began to sob. "I want my cobbler," hescreamed loudly, "and I want my beautiful stars!"
"Bobbie, Bobbie, you'll be sick if you scream that way. There, there,honey!" Jinnie hushed him gently.
"I want to be 'Happy in Spite'," the boy went on. But his wordsbrought before the pale girl that old, old memory of the cobbler whohad invented the club for just such purposes as this. How could she be'Happy in Spite' when Bobbie suffered; when Peg and baby Lafe neededher; happy when Lafe faced an ignominious death for a crime he had notcommitted; happy when her beloved was perhaps still very ill in thehospital? She got up and began to walk to and fro. Suddenly she pausedin her even march across the room. Unless she steadied her fluttering,stinging nerves, she'd never be able to still the wretched boy.There's an old saying that when one tries to help others, winged aidwill come to the helper. And so it was with Jinnie. She had only againtaken Bobbie close when there came to her Lafe's old, old words: "Hehath given his angels charge over thee."
"Bobbie," she said softly, "I'm going to play for you."
As Jinnie straightened his limp little body out on the divan, shenoticed how very thin he had become, how his heart throbbedcontinually, how the agonized lines drew and pursed the sensitive,delicate mouth.
Then she played and played and played, and ever in her heart to therhythm of her music were the words, "His angels shall have charge overthee." Suddenly there came to her a great belief that out of her faithand Lafe's faith would come Bobbie's good, and Peg's good, andespecially the good of the man shut up in the little cell. When theboy grew sleepy, Jinnie made him ready for bed.
"I'll lie down with you, Bobbie," she whispered, "and Happy Pete cansleep on the foot of the bed."
And as the pair of sad little souls slept, Lafe's angels kept guardover them.