"I'll pay you for your time," agreed Morse eagerly.
Side by side they seated themselves on a fallen tree. The young wood gatherer looked wicked enough to do anything that might be requested of him.
"Are you married?" asked Morse.
Maudlin's face darkened.
"No," he grunted moodily.
"Ha! In love? I see!" laughed the other.
Maudlin turned sheepish eyes on his interrogator; then looked down, flushed, and finished: "I'd a been married all right if it hadn't been for a damn bloke along Paradise Road," he explained.
"Yes? Tell me about it."
"Oh, what's the use! Everybody's stickin' their noses in my business, and it ain't nothin' to do with 'em uther."
"I might help you," suggested Jordan, seemingly interested.
"Ain't anybody c'n help me," sulked Maudlin. "Got the richest man in town 'gainst me, and money's what makes the mare go."
The words "richest man" startled Morse, but he only said, "That's so! But tell me just the same."
"Aw, it's only a wench I wanted! A mutt by the name of King butted in on me."
Jordan Morse mentally congratulated himself that he had struck the right nail on the head the very first whack.
To gain possession of Jinnie's money meant finding his boy, and that was the dearest wish of his heart.
"You might tell me about it," he reiterated slowly. "I ought to be able to help you."
"Naw, you can't!" scoffed Maudlin. "My pa and me's tried for a long time, but there ain't nothin' doin' with Jinnie. She's a sure devil, Jinnie is."
Jordan's blood tingled in anticipation.
"Is that the girl's name?" he queried.
"Yes, she's a niece of a cobbler up the track yonder, and as pretty a little minx as walks Paradise Road. If I had 'er I'd fix her. I'd beat her till she minded me, I c'n tell y' that!"
"I believe beating's the way to subdue most women," said Morse, lighting a cigarette. But as he said this, a slight smile passed over his face. He thought of Molly Merriweather in connection with the man's logic.
"It's the way pa done to my stepmother," observed Maudlin presently. "She was a onery woman as ever you see, but pa one day just licked her, and then licked 'er every day till now she don't dast but mind 'im.... I'd do that with Jinnie if I had 'er."
Morse watched rings of smoke curl upward in the summer air, breaking among the branches of the trees.
"Why don't you steal 'er?" he demanded at length.
Bates' lower jaw fell down, showing discolored teeth. He stared at his inquisitor in consternation. Then he dropped back into his former slovenly attitude.