laughter, and, moreover, a rattling as if of
metal. They were appalled, and drew back into a doorway. It sounded
like a whole company.

It was one, too, but of young girls. All the maids of the town were
going out in a body to the pastures to milk.

It made the deepest impression on these city men, these citizens of
the world. The maids of the town with milk-pails! It was almost
touching!

They suddenly jumped out of their doorway and cried "Boo!"

The whole troop of girls scattered instantly. They screamed and
ran. Their skirts fluttered; their head cloths loosened; their
milk-pails rolled about the street.

And at the same time, along the whole street, was heard a deafening
sound of gates and doors slammed to, of hooks and bolts and locks.

Farther down the street stood a big linden tree, and under it sat
an old woman by a table with candies and cakes. She did not move;
she did not look round; 9111' only sat still. She was not asleep
either.

"She is made of wood," said Cobbler-Petter,

"No, of clay," said Rulle-Petter.

They walked abreast, all three. Just in front of the old woman they
began to reel. They staggered against her table. And the old woman
began to scold.

"Neither of wood nor of clay," they said,--"venom, only venom."

During all this time Petter Nord had not spoken to them, but now,
at last, they were directly in front of Halfvorson's shop, and
there he was waiting for them.

"This is undeniably, my affair," he said proudly, and pointed at
the shop. "I wish to go in alone and attend to it. If I do not
succeed, then you may try."

They nodded. "Go ahead, Petter Nord! We will wait outside."

Petter Nord went in, found a young man alone in the shop, and asked
about Halfvorson. He heard that the latter had gone away. He had
quite a talk with the clerk, and obtained a good deal of
information about his master.

Halfvorson had never been accused of illicit trade. How he had
behaved towards Petter Nord every one knew, but no one spoke of
that affair any more. Halfvorson had risen in the world, and now he
was not at all dangerous. He was not inhuman to his debtors, and
had ceased to spy on his shop-boys. The last few years he had
devoted himself to gardening. He had laid out a garden around his
house in the town, and a kitchen garden near the customhouse. He
worked so eagerly in his gardens that he scarcely thought of
amassing money.

Petter Nord felt a stab in his heart. Of course th