“We’re going to Lafe and Peg, Bobbie,” she said. “Can you walk a long way?”
“Yes,” gurgled Bobbie, color flaming his face. “My legs’ll go faster’n anything.”
And “faster’n anything” those thin little legs did go. The boy trotted along beside his friend, down the hill to the flats. Jinnie chose a back street leading to the lower end of the town.
“I’d better carry you a while, dearie,” she offered presently, noting with what difficulty he breathed. “You take the fiddle!” And without remonstrance from the boy she lifted him in her arms.
From the tracks Lafe’s small house had the appearance of being unoccupied. Jinnie went in, walking from the 330 shop to the kitchen, where she called “Peggy!” two or three times. Then the thought of the cobbler’s trial rushed over her. Peggy and the baby were at court with Lafe, of course.
Knowing she must face her uncle in the courtroom, she went to Lafe’s black box and drew forth the sealed letter her father had sent to Grandoken. This she hid in her dress, and taking Bobbie and the fiddle, she went out and closed the door.
Another long walk brought them to the courthouse, which stood in solemn stone silence, with one side to the dark, iron-barred jail. Jinnie shivered when she thought of the weary months Lafe had sat within his gloomy cell.
She entered the building, holding Bobbie’s hand. Every seat in the room was filled, and a man was making a speech, using the names of Maudlin Bates and Lafe Grandoken.
Then she looked about once more, craning her neck to catch sight of those ahead. Her eyes fell first upon Lafe, God bless him! There he sat, her cobbler, in the same old wheelchair, wearing that look of benign patience so familiar to her. Only a little distance from him sat Peggy, the baby sleeping on her knees. Molly the Merry was seated next to Jordan Morse, whose large white hand nervously clutched the back of the woman’s chair.
Several stern-looking men at a table had numerous papers over which they were bending. Then Jinnie’s gaze found Jasper Bates. She could see, by the look upon his face, that he was suffering. She felt sorry, sorry for any one who was in trouble, who had lost a son in such a manner as Jasper had. Then she awoke to the import of the lawyer’s words.