Morse waited a minute until Bates repeated once more, "How, mister?" then he asked:
"My God! You musn't mention this to any one, not even your father. I'll run the car myself. You go to the cobbler and by some excuse get the girl in the car--after that I'll see to her."
"No, you won't see to nothin'," he growled surlily. "I don't take a step till I know I get 'er. I'll marry 'er all right, but she's got to want to marry me first."
"I don't care what you do with 'er," replied Morse morosely. "Marry 'er or not, just get her, that's all!"
"The cobbler's got a vixen of a wife," complained Maudlin at length.
"Persuade her to go somewhere, can't you?" snapped Morse.
"Yes, that's easy," drawled Maudlin, wobbling his head.
For a long time they sat talking and planning, until at length Morse put his hand in his pocket and handed the other man some money. Maudlin tucked it away with a grin.
"Easy cash, eh? What'd you say the dame's name was?"
"Merriweather--Molly Merriweather. She's companion to Mr. King's mother."
"Jinnie fiddles all the afternoon.... Mebbe she won't go."
"Yes, she will. Tell her Miss Merriweather wants her to arrange a surprise for Theodore King. Tell 'er Miss Merriweather wants her to play."
"That'll fix the huzzy. Anything about that damn fiddle'll fetch 'er every time! When I get 'er I'll bust it up for kindlin' wood."
"Then it's settled," said Morse, rising. "You go this afternoon at three o'clock to Grandoken's, tell Jinnie what I told you to, get the cobbler into an argument, and I'll do the rest."
"Of course! What'd you think I am? Keep your mouth shut! Be sure of that."
"Three o'clock, then," said Maudlin, getting up. "So long!" and lifting his wood, he went on his way rejoicing.
At half past one that afternoon a messenger appeared at Grandoken's with a letter for Jinnie.
"Boy's got something for you," she declared. "It's a letter, I guess."
Jinnie held out her hand with thumping pulses, took the extended pencil, and signed her name to a blank page. Then the boy held out the missive. Of course it was from Theodore, thought Jinnie. She had scarcely slept the night before, fitfully dreaming of him. Throwing a shy smile at Peg, she went into her bedroom and shut the door. With a long, ecstatic breath, she set herself to the delightful task of slowly perusing the beloved epistle.