Rose O'Paradise Part 65

Bobbie's breath was sent out in one long exclamation of wonder.

"A cobbler," went on Jinnie impressively, "could steal loaves of bread right under a great judge's nose and he couldn't do anything to him."

Jinnie had made a daring speech, such a splendid one; she wanted to believe it herself.

"Tell me more," chirped Bobbie. "What about the death chair, Jinnie?"

She had nursed the hope that the boy would be satisfied with what she had already told him, but she proceeded in triumphant tones:

"Oh, you mean the chair Peg was speaking about, huh? Sure I know all about that.... There isn't anything I don't know about it.... I know more'n all the judges and preachers put together."

A small, trustful smile appeared at the corners of Bobbie's mouth.

"I know you do, Jinnie," he agreed. "Tell it to me."

Jinnie pressed her lips on his hair.

"And if I tell you, kiddie, you'll not cry any more or worry Peggy?"

"I'll be awful good, and not cry once," promised the boy, settling himself expectantly.

"Now, then, listen hard!"

Accordingly, after a dramatic pause, to give stress to her next statement, she continued:

"There isn't a death chair in the whole world can kill a cobbler."

Bobbie braced himself against her and sat up. His blind eyes were roving over her with an expression of disbelief. Jinnie knew he was doubting her veracity, so she hurried on.

"Of course they got an electric chair that'll kill other kinds of men," she explained volubly, "but if you'll believe me, Bobbie, no cobbler could ever sit in it."

Bobbie dropped back again. There was a ring of truth in Jinnie's words, and he began to believe her.

"And another thing, Bobbie, there's something in the Bible better'n what I've told you. You believe the Bible, don't you?"

"Lafe's Bible?" asked Bobbie, scarcely audible.

"Sure! There isn't but one."

"Yes, Jinnie, I believe that," said the boy.

"Well," and Jinnie glanced up at the ceiling, "there's just about a hundred pages in that book tells how once some men tried to put a cobbler in one of those chairs, and the lightning jumped out and set 'em all on fire----"

Bobbie straightened up so quickly that Happy Pete fell to the floor.

"Yes, yes, Jinnie dear," he breathed. "Go on!"

Jinnie hesitated. She didn't want to fabricate further.

"It's just so awful I hate to tell you," she objected.

"I'd be happier if you would," whispered Bobbie.

"Then I will! The fire, jumping out, didn't hurt the cobbler one wee bit, but it burned the wicked men----" Jinnie paused, gathered a deep breath, and brought to mind Lafe's droning voice when he had used the same words, "Burned 'em root and branch," declared she.

Bobbie's face shone with happiness.

"Is that all?" he begged.

"Isn't it enough?" asked Jinnie, with tender chiding.

"Aren't there nothin' in it about Lafe?"

"Oh, sure!" Again she was at loss for ideas, but somehow words of their own volition seemed to spring from her lips. "Sure there is!

There's another hundred pages in that blessed book that says good men like Lafe won't ever go into one of those chairs, never, never.... The Lord G.o.d Almighty ordered all those death chairs to be chopped up for kindling wood," she ended triumphantly.

"Shortwood?" broke out Bobbie.

Unheeding the interruption, Jinnie pursued: "They just left a chair for wicked men, that's all."

Bobbie slipped to the floor and raised his hands.

"Jinnie, pretty Jinnie. I'm goin' to believe every word you've said, every word, and my stars're all shinin' so bright they're just like them in the sky."

Jinnie kissed the eager little face and left the child sitting on the floor, crooning contentedly to Happy Pete.

"Lafe told me once," Jinnie whispered to herself on the way to the kitchen, "when a lie does a lot of good, it's better than the truth if telling facts hurts some one."

She joined Peggy, sighing, "I'm an awful liar, all right, but Bobbie's happy."

CHAPTER x.x.xVII

WHAT THE THUNDER STORM BROUGHT

In the past few weeks Jinnie Grandoken had been driven blindly into unknown places, forced to face conditions which but a short time before would have seemed unbearable. However, there was much with which Jinnie could occupy her time. Blind Bobbie was not well. He was mourning for the cobbler with all his boyish young soul, and every day Peggy grew more taciturn and ill. The funds left by Theodore were nearly gone, and Jinnie had given up her lessons. She was using the remaining money for their meagre necessities.

So slowly did the days drag by that the girl had grown to believe that the authorities would never bring Lafe to trial, exonerate him, and send him home. Then, too, Theodore was still in the hospital, and she thought of him ever with a sense of terrific loss. But the daily papers brought her news of him, and now printed that his splendid const.i.tution might pull him through. It never occurred to her that her loved one would believe Lafe had shot him and Maudlin Bates. Theodore was too wise, too kindly, for such suspicions.

For a while after receiving permission from the county attorney, she visited Lafe every day. Peggy had seen him only once, being too miserable to stand the strain of going to the jail. But Mrs. Grandoken never neglected sending by the girl some little remembrance to her husband. Perhaps it was only a written message, but mostly a favorite dish of food or an article of his wearing apparel.

One afternoon Bobbie sat by the window with his small, pale face pressed close to the pane. Outside a great storm was raging, and from one end of Paradise Road to the other, rivulets of water rushed down to the lake. Several times that day, when the boy had addressed Mrs.

Grandoken, she had answered him even more gruffly than of yore. He knew by her voice she was ill, and his palpitating heart was wrung so agonizingly that he was constantly in tears. Now he was waiting for Jinnie, and the sound of the buffeting rain and the booming roar of heavy thunder thrilled him dismally. To hear Jinnie's footsteps at that moment would be the panacea for all his grief.

Peg came into the shop, and Bobbie turned slightly.