Jinny looked into Janice’s face dumbly. The latter motioned to her quickly, whispering:
“Wrap him up. Bring him quickly to the car. We’ll take him to the doctor in spite of everything!” and as the other still hesitated, she demanded:
“Do you want to see him die, you cruel girl?”
At that the black-haired girl wrapped the blanket around the suffering baby and started for the door.
“You want yo’ pappy should skin you alive, Jinny?” shrieked her mother, but unable to rise.
“Let him skin!” returned Virginia, as she darted out of the door. Janice ran after her, and both girls leaped into the car. Janice started it instantly and the Kremlin darted away along the wood road, quickly leaving the squatters’ cabin out of sight.
The two girls scarcely spoke a word all the way to Polktown. Janice drove the car just as fast as she dared, and kept her eyes on the road ahead. Virginia Trimmins hung over the baby boy, her hungry eyes watching every change in his poor, pinched features.
The car flew along the wood road and out upon the main highway. Elder Concannon’s place was in sight when suddenly a tall figure rose up out of the bushes beside the road. It quite startled Janice, although she almost instantly recognized the Elder himself.
The severe old man held his watch in his hand as the car dashed by. Janice knew very well that she was exceeding the county speed limit; but she would have pulled down just then for little less than a gattling gun. And right ahead—they were on him in less than a minute—was the constable, who darted out from behind a hedge, likewise with his watch in his hand.
“Stop that there car!” he yelled, holding up an admonitory hand.