If Molly was suffering over the crime which had sent the man she loved to the hospital, Jinnie was going through thrice that agony for the same man. He had almost met his death in coming to tell Lafe of their love, and had been struck down in his mission by an unknown hand. Jinnie knew it was an unknown hand, because just as sure as she lived, so sure was she that Lafe had not committed the crime. The cobbler had explained it all to her, and she believed him. Peggy was dreadfully ill! After her fainting spell, the girl put Mrs. Grandoken to bed, and then went to comfort Bobbie. She found him huddled on his pillow, clasping Happy Pete in his arms. The small face was streaked with tears and half buried from sight.
“Bobbie,” called Jinnie softly.
The yellow head came up with a jerk, the flashing grey eyes begging in mute helplessness an explanation for these unusual happenings.
“I’m here, Jinnie. What’s the matter with everybody?”
Jinnie lay down beside him.
“Peggy’s sick,” she said, not daring to say more.
“Where’s Lafe?”
An impulsive arm went across the child’s body.
“He’s gone away for a little while, dear, just for a few days!”
Something in her tones made Bobbie writhe. With the acuteness of one with his affliction, his ears had caught the commotion in the shop.