They trailed along in silence, the girl watching the birds as flock after flock disappeared in the north woods. Now and then, when Jinnie looked at the boy, she felt the pride which comes only with possession. She was going to work for him, to intercede with Peg, to allow the foundling to join that precious home circle where the cobbler and his wife reigned supreme.
As they reached the plank walk, the boy lagged back.
"I'm tired, girl," he panted. "I've walked till I'm just near dead."
He cried quietly as Jinnie led him into the shadow of a tree.
"Sit here with me," she invited. "Lay your head on my arm."
And this time he snuggled to her till the blind eyes and the pursed delicate mouth were hidden against her arm.
"I told you, Bobbie," Jinnie resumed presently, "I'd let you be Lafe's little boy, didn't I?"
"Yes, girl," replied the boy, sleepily.
"Now wasn't that awful good of me?"
"Awful good," was the dreamy answer. "My stars're glory bright now."
"And most likely Lafe'll help you see with your eyes, just like Happy Pete and me!" Jinnie went on eagerly. "All the trees and hundreds of birds, some of 'em yellow and some of 'em red, an' some of 'em so little and cunning they could jump through the knothole in Peg's kitchen.... Don't you wish to see all that?"
The small face brightened and the unseeing eyes flashed upward.
"I'd find my mother, then," breathed Bobbie.
"And you'd see a big high tree, with a robin making his nest in it!... Have y' ever seen that?"
Jinnie was becoming almost aggressive, for, womanlike, with a point to make, each argument was driven home with more power.
"No," Bobbie admitted, and his voice held a certain tragic little note.
"And you've never seen the red running along the edge of the sky, just when the sun's going down?"
Again his answer was a simple negative.
"And hasn't anybody tried to show you a cow and her calf in the country, nipping the grass all day, in the yellow sunshine?"
Jinnie was waxing eloquent, and her words held high-sounding hope. The interest in the child's face invited her to go on.
"Now I've said I'd let my folks be yours, and didn't I find you, and have you got any one else? If you don't let me help you to Lafe's, how you going to see any of 'em?" She paused before delivering her best point, which was addressed quite indifferently to the sky. "And just think of that hot soup!"
This was enough. Bobbie struggled up, flushed and agitated.