CHAPTER XLV
WRITING A LETTER TO THEODORE
The first thing Jinnie saw the next morning was the rough draft of theletter Molly had ordered her to copy. To send it to Theodore wasasking more of her than she could bear. She turned and looked atBobbie. He was still sleeping his troubled, short-breathed sleep. Shehad shielded him with her life, with her liberty. Now he demanded, inthat helpless, babyish, blind way of his, that she repudiate herlove.
In the loneliness of the gorge house she had become used to the ideaof never again seeing Theodore, but to allow him to think the falsething in that letter was dreadful. She picked it up and glanced itover once more, then dropped it as if the paper had scorched herfingers. She'd die rather than send it, and she would tell her uncleso when he came that morning.
She was very quiet, more than usually so, when she gave the blind boyhis breakfast.
"Bobbie," she said, "you know I'd do anything for you in this wholeworld, don't you? I mean--I mean anything I could?"
Mystified, the boy bobbed his curly head.
"Sure I do, Jinnie, and I'd do anything for you too, honey."
She kissed him passionately, as her eyes sought the letter once more.It lay on the floor, the words gleaming up at her in sinistermockery. She tore her eyes from it, shaking in dread. Would she havethe courage to stand against Jordan Morse in this one thing? She hadgiven in to him at every point, but this time she intended to standfirmly upon the rock of her love. Once more she picked up the letterand put it away.
Two hours later, with loathing and disgust depicted in her white face,she saw Mr. Morse enter, and her blazing blue eyes stabbed the man'sanger to the point of desiring to do her harm. For a moment hecontemplated her in silence. He was going to have trouble with herthat day. What a fool Molly was! It was she who insisted upon thatbally letter. What did he care about Theodore King? Still his wife hadhim completely within her power, and he was really afraid of her nowand then when she flew into rages about his niece and Theodore. Hemopped his brow nervously.
A few days more and it would be ended. Inside of one week he would befree from every element which threatened him, free to commence thesearch for his child. He strode across the room to Jinnie.
"Come on with me," he ordered under his breath.
Jinnie obediently followed him into the inner room. Morse slammed thedoor with his foot.
"Where's the letter?" he growled between his teeth.
Jinnie went to the table, got the original draft and handed it over.
"Here it is," she said slowly.
He glanced over the paper.
"Why, this is the one we left here yesterday, isn't it?"
"Yes!"
"Where is the one you wrote? I don't want this."
A glint of understanding flashed upon him.
"Where is the other?" he demanded once more.
"I haven't written it and I don't intend to."
For one single instant Morse's mind swept over the sacrifices she hadmade. She had done every single thing he had told her, not for hersake but for others. He shuddered when he thought of the trouble hewould have had with her had not the blind boy been within his poweralso.
"Get the paper and write it now," he said ominously.
"I will not!"
She meant the words, a righteous indignation flaming her face, makingher eyes shine no longer blue, but opal color. Morse wondered dully ifshe could and would stand out against what he would be forced to do.
"I see," he began shiftily. "I have to teach you a lesson every time Icome here, eh?"
"This time you won't," she flashed at him.
"This time I will," he taunted.
"I'd rather be dead," she faltered. "I'd rather be dead than writeit."
"Perhaps! But would you rather have----" he made a backward jerk ofhis thumb toward the other room--"him dead?"
Jinnie's eyes misted in agony, but Theodore was still near her inspirit, and she remembered the dear hours they had spent together andhow much she loved him. A sudden swift passion shook her as his kisseslived warm again upon her face. That letter she would not write. Butas she made this decision for the hundredth time that day, Morse'swords recurred to her. Would she rather have Bobbie dead? Yes, if shewere dead too. But life was so hard to part with! She was so strong.How many times she had prayed of late to die! But every morning foundher woefully and more miserably alive than the one before.
"I understand you'd rather, then," drawled Morse.
Jinnie shook her head.
"I don't know what I'd rather have, only I can't write the letter."She made one rapid step toward him--"I know," she went on feverishly,"I won't ever see Theodore again----"
Morse's emphatic nod broke off her words, but she went oncourageously. "I don't expect to, but I love him. Can't you seethat?"
"Quite evident," replied the man.
"Why hurt me more than necessary then?" she demanded.
"This is part of Miss Merri----"
"She loves him too?" cried Jinnie, staggering back.
"Yes, and he--well, you saw his letter yesterday."
"Yes, I saw it," breathed Jinnie with swift coming breath.
"Miss Merriweather thinks Theodore might still feel his obligations toyou unless you----"
"Does she know he asked me to marry him?" In spite of her agony, shethrilled in memory.
"Yes, and he told me, too. But Miss Merriweather intends to marry himherself, and all she wants is to wipe thoughts of you from his mind."
A powerful argument swept from her lips.
"It wouldn't make any difference to him about me if he loved her."
"You're an analytical young miss," said Morse with one of hisdisagreeable smiles.
"You've taught me to be," she retorted, blazing. "Now listen! Youasked me if I'd rather have Bobbie die than write the letter, didn'tyou?"
He nodded.
"Then I say 'yes'." She caught her breath. "We'll both die."
"Well, by God, you're a cool one! Theodore's more lucky than Ithought. So that's the way you love him?"
She grew more inexplicable with each passing day.
"Poor Theodore!" murmured Morse, to break the tense silence.
"I thought it all out this morning," explained Jinnie. "Bobbie'sawfully ill, terribly. He can't live long anyway, and I----" Aterrific sob shook her as a raging gale rends a slender flower.
Jinnie controlled her weeping that the blind child in the other roommight not hear. Never had Jordan been so sorely tempted to do a gooddeed. Good deeds were not habitual to him, but at that moment a desirepossessed him to take her in his arms, to soothe her, to restore herto Peggy and give her back to Theodore. But the murder scene in thecobbler's shop came back with strong renewed vigor. He had gone toofar, and he must have money. Molly held him in her power, and as hethought of her tightly set lips, the danger signal she had tossed athim more times than once, he crushed dead his better feeling.
"Your plan won't work," he said slowly. "Write the letter--I am in ahurry."
"I will not," she refused him once more.
Morse walked to the door, and she allowed him to open it. Then withclenched hands she tottered after him. He was going to kill Bobbie andherself. Somehow within her tortured being she was glad. Morse waitedand looked back, asking her a question silently.
She made no response, however, but cast her eyes upon the blind boysitting dejectedly upon the floor, one arm around Happy Pete.
"Jinnie," said Bobbie, rolling his eyes, "I was afraid you were goin'to stay in there all day."
"Come here, boy," ordered Morse. "Get up and come here."
Bobbie turned his delicate, serious face in the direction of thevoice.
"I don't want to," he gulped, shaking his head. "I don't like you,Mister Black Man. I can't get up anyway, my heart hurts too much!"
Still the girl stood with the vision of Theodore King before her.
"I won't write it, I won't," she droned to herself insistently.
Morse sprang forward and grasped the child.
"Get up," he hissed.
Bobbie scrambled up because he was made to. He uttered a frightened,terrified cry.
Then, "Jinnie!" he gasped.
Jinnie saw Morse shake the slender little body and drop into a chair,dragging the child forward. Bobbie could no longer speak. The dazedgirl knew the little heart was beating in its very worst terror. Shecouldn't bear the sight and closed her eyes for an instant. When sheopened them, Morse's hand was raised above the boy's golden head, butshe caught it in hers before it descended.
"I'll do it," she managed to whisper. "Look! Look! You've killedhim."
In another moment she had Bobbie in her arms, his face pressed againsther breast.
"Get out of here!" she said, deathly white, to Morse. "I'll do it,come back to-morrow."
And Morse was glad to escape.
After Jinnie brought Bobbie to his senses and he lay like a crumpledleaf on the divan, she took up the hated letter. She sat down to readit once more.
It was short, concise, and to the point.
* * * * *
"MR. KING:
"I made a mistake in ever thinking I cared for you. I have some oneelse now I love better, and expect to be very happy with him.
"JINNIE GRANDOKEN."
* * * * *
The next morning when Morse came jauntily in, she handed him the copyof it without a word. He only said to her:
"You'd have saved yourself a lot of trouble if you'd done this in thefirst place. You won't bother me long now. Mr. King is home and almostwell." Then he smiled, showing his white, even teeth. "He'll be gladto receive this letter."
"Get out," Jinnie gritted. "Get out before I--I kill you!"
* * * * *
Two days later Molly Merriweather was in the seventh heaven of bliss.As Morse had said, Theodore was home, looking more like himself. Withher heart in her mouth, the woman entered his sitting room withJinnie's letter. Jordan had had it mailed to King from Binghamton.
"I've brought you a letter, Theodore," smiled Molly nervously.
He extended his hand, and upon recognizing the handwriting, turneddeadly white.
"I'd like to be alone," said he without looking up.
When he sent for her a little while later, and she sat opposite him,he said:
"I'd rather not speak of--of--Miss Grandoken again. Will you give me adrink, Molly?" And the woman noted the hurt look in his eyes.
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