d-bye she heard Peg breathing regularly
and knew she slept. Then she settled herself in the chair, and sweet,
mysterious dreams came to her through the storm.

CHAPTER XXXVIII

THE STORY OF A BIRD

Lafe Grandoken, in his wheel chair, sat under the barred prison
window, an open Bible on his knees. Slowly the shadows were falling
about him, and to the man every shade had an entity of its own. First
there trooped before him all the old memories of the many
yesterdays--of Peg--his little dead lad--and Jinnie. And lastly,
ghostlike, came the shattered hopes of to-morrow, and with these he
groaned and shivered.

Jinnie stole in and looked long upon her friend through the
iron-latticed door. The smile that played with the dimples in her
cheeks and the dancing shadows in the violet eyes indicated her
happiness. Lafe looked older and thinner than ever before, and her
heart sang when she thought of the news she had to tell him. She
longed to pronounce his name, to take away the far-away expression
that seemed to hold him in deep meditation. During her tramp to the
jail she'd concocted a fairy story to bring a smile to the cobbler's
lips. So at length:

"Lafe," she whispered.

Mr. Grandoken's head came up quickly, and he turned the chair and
wheeled toward her. There was the same question in his eyes that had
been there for so many days, and Jinnie smiled broadly.

"Lafe," she began mysteriously, "a great big bird flew right into the
house last night. He flopped in to get out of the storm!"

"A bird?" repeated Lafe, startled.

"Yes, and everybody says it's awful good luck."

Lafe's expression grew tragic, and Jinnie hurried on with her tale.

"I'll bet you can't guess what kind of a bird 'twas, Lafe."

Lafe shook his head. "I can't lessen 'twas a robin," said he.

Jinnie giggled.

"My, no! He was a heap bigger'n a robin. Guess again!"

Such chatter from Jinnie was unusual, especially of late, but Lafe
bore it patiently.

"I can't," he sighed, shaking his head.

Jinnie clapped her hands.

"I knew you couldn't! Well, Lafe, it was a--a----"

"Yes?" queried Lafe wearily, during her hesitation. "Well, Jinnie?"

"It was a great, big, beautiful white stork, Lafe, and he brought you
a new Jew baby. What'd you think of that?"

"Jinnie, girl, lass, you ain't tellin' me----"

"Yes, dear, he's there, as big as life and twice as natural, Peg
says.... Of course," she rambled on, "the stork went away, but the