“But he can’t walk, Jinnie. Did he walk?” he demanded.
“No.”
“How’d he go, in a motor car?” 251
“No,” repeated the girl.
“Some one took him, then?” demanded Bobbie.
“Yes.”
“In a wagon?”
By this time she could feel the tip-tap of his anguished heart against hers.
“Yes,” she admitted, but that was all. She felt that to tell the truth then would be fatal to the throbbing young life in her arms.
“Bobbie,” she whispered, cuddling him. “Lafe’s coming home soon. Be a good boy and lie still and rest. Jinnie’ll come back in a few minutes.”