re out. If I can get her away from
Grandoken's, she won't get back, I can tell you that. But that damn
cobbler and Theo'll make such a devilish row----"

"You needn't be profane," chided Molly.

"A woman like you's enough to make any man swear.... Now listen to me.
The very fact that Jinnie ran away from home shows me that Tom
Singleton told her I put 'im in a mad house! Jinnie, of course, told
Grandoken. I've got to get that cobbler--and--you've got to help me
get Jinnie----"

"Haven't I done all I could?" gasped Molly. "I can't go down there and
take her by the nape of the neck, can I?"

"No, but I will! Now let's go! I want to do some pretty tall thinking
before morning. Once let those two people be married and I'm lost."

"So am I," muttered Molly, swaying at his vehement words.

They threaded their way back to the hill, and Morse left Molly at her
gate. As she walked slowly up the road, she could see the light in
Theodore's window, and his shadow thrown on the curtain.

CHAPTER XXXII

JORDAN MORSE'S PLAN

The next morning Jordan Morse rose after a sleepless night, his face
drawn in long, deep-set lines. The hours had been spent in futile
planning. To save himself from the dire consequences of his misdeeds,
to procure the money which would come to Jinnie when she was eighteen
years old, was the one idea that dinned constantly at his brain. She
and the cobbler would have to be put out of the way, and this must be
done before Theodore announced publicly his intention of marrying the
girl. Jordan had no wish to break his friendship with Theodore, so he
could do nothing openly. If it were a mere case of filching what
little he could from Jinnie's estate before she became of age, it
would be an easy matter, but the girl must disappear. How? Where?
There was finality in one of his decisions that moment. He must get
possession of her that very day. Theodore would let no grass grow
under his feet. He would marry her offhand, and educate her
afterwards.

Jordan wondered vaguely if the Jewish cobbler had an enemy among the
shortwood gatherers. If so, and the man could be found, it would bring
his own salvation.

With this desire uppermost in his mind, Jordan wended his way to the
lower part of the town, passed into Paradise Road, and paused a second
in front of Lafe Grandoken's shop to read the sign:

"Lafe Grandoken: Cobbler of Folks' and Children's Shoes and Boots."

His lips curled at the crude pri