ful horse from you?" he asked innocently.

"No, 'twas something else they wanted to have their fingers in,"
growled Lars Peter; he would show them that he could be sarcastic
too. "Now then, will you buy the goods or not?"

"Of course we'll buy them. Look here, I've reckoned it all up. It'll
be exactly fifty-six crowns--highest market price."

"Oh, go to the devil with your highest market price!" Lars Peter
began mounting the cart again.

The old man looked at him in surprise through his spectacles: "Then
you won't sell?"

"No, that I won't. I'd rather take it home again--and get double the
price."

"Well, if you say so of course--Lars Peter Hansen's no cheat. But
what are we to do, my man? My conscience won't allow me to send you
dragging those things home again--it would be a crime to this
beautiful horse." He approached the nag as if to pat it, but Klavs
laid back his ears and lashed his tail. This praise of his horse
softened Lars Peter, and the end of it was that he let the load go
for ninety crowns. A cigar was thrown into the bargain. "It's from
the cheap box, so please don't light it until you get outside the
gate," said the impudent old knave. "Come again soon!"

Thanks! It would be some time before he came here again--a pack of
robbers! He asked the way to an inn in Vestergade, where people from
his neighborhood generally stayed, and there he unharnessed.

The yard was full of vehicles. Farmers with pipes hanging from their
lips and fur-coats unbuttoned were loading their wagons. Here and
there between the vehicles were loiterers, with broad gold chains
across their chest and half-closed eyes. One of them came up to Lars
Peter. "Are you doing anything tonight?" said he. "There's a couple
of us here--retired farmers--going to have a jolly evening together.
We want a partner." He drew a pack of cards from his breast-pocket,
and began shuffling them.

No, Lars Peter had no time. "All the same, thanks." "Who are those
men?" he asked the stable-boy.

"Oh, they help the farmers to find their way about town, when it's
dark," answered the man, laughing.

"Are they paid for that then?" asked Lars Peter thoughtfully.

"Oh, yes--and sometimes a good deal. But then they fix up other
things besides--lodging for the night and everything. Even a wife
they'll get for you, if you like."

"Well, I don't care about that. If they'd only help a man to get
hold of his own wife!"

"I don't think they do that. But y