ut
making her wait.

"I'm going to ask you to do me a favor," he said, coming forward,
holding out his hand.

Now when Jinnie first heard that he wished to see her, she thought her
heart could beat no faster, but his words made that small organ tattoo
against her sides like the flutter of a bird's wing in fright. She
could do something for him! Oh, what joy! What unutterable joy!

"We're going to have some friends here Sunday evening----"

The sudden upfling of Jinnie's head cut off his words.

What difference would his having friends make to her? Oh, yes, they
wanted more wood. How gladly she would get it for him; search all day
for the driest pieces if he needed them!

"I was wondering," proceeded Mr. King, "if you would come here with
your violin and play for--for--us?"

Jinnie's knees relaxed and she staggered back against the wall.

"You musn't feel embarrassed about it," he hurried on. "I'd be very
much indebted to you if you thought you could."

Tears were so perilously near Jinnie's lids that some of them rolled
into her throat. To regain her self-possession enough to speak, she
swallowed several times in rapid succession. Such a compliment she'd
never been paid before. She brought her hands together appealingly,
and Mr. King noticed that his request had heightened her color.

"I'd love to do it," she breathed.

"Of course I'll pay you for it," he said, not able to think of
anything else,

"I couldn't take any money for fiddling," replied Jinnie. "But I'll
come. Lafe says money can't be made that way."

She turned to go, but Mr. King detained her.

"Wait a minute," he insisted. "I want to tell you something! You've a
great gift--a wonderful genius--and out of such genius much money
_is_ made.... I couldn't think of letting you come here unless you
allowed me to remunerate you."

Jinnie listened attentively to all he said, but refusal was still in
her steady gaze. Mr. King, seeing this, continued quickly:

"I want you very much, but on that one point I must have my way. I
shall give you twenty-five dollars for playing three pieces."

Then Jinnie thought she was going to faint. Twenty-five dollars! It
was a fortune--a huge fortune! But she couldn't take money for playing
tunes that came from her heart--tunes that were a part of herself the
same as her hands or feet. But before she could offer another
argument, the man finished hurriedly:

"It's settled now. You're to come here Sunday night a