th him from
their joint savings--to be used for buying cattle, it was all the
money there was in the house; and now he had squandered it all.

His hands began to tremble. He leant over his brother, as if to
seize him; but straightened himself and left the barn. He hung about
for two or three hours, to give his brother time to sleep off the
drink, then went in again. This time he would settle up. He shook
his brother and wakened him.

"Where's the money to buy the calf?" asked he.

"What's that to you?" Johannes threw himself on his other side.

Lars Peter dragged him to his feet. "I want to speak to you," said
he.

"Oh, go to hell," mumbled Johannes. He did not open his eyes, and
tumbled back into the hay.

Lars Peter brought a pail of ice-cold water from the well.

"I'll wake you, whether you like it or not!" said he, throwing the
pailful of water over his head.

Like a cat Johannes sprang to his feet, and drew his knife. He
turned round, startled by the rude awakening; caught sight of his
brother and rushed at him. Lars Peter felt a stab in his cheek, the
blade of the knife struck against his teeth. With one blow he
knocked Johannes down, threw himself on him, wrestling for the
knife. Johannes was like a cat, strong and quick in his movements;
he twisted and turned, used his teeth, and tried to find an opening
to stab again. He was foaming at the mouth. Lars Peter warded off
the attacks with his hands, which were bleeding already from several
stabs. At last he got his knee on his brother's chest.

Johannes lay gasping for breath. "Let me go!" he hissed.

"Ay, if you'll behave properly," said Lars Peter, relaxing his grip
a little. "You're my youngest brother, and I'm loth to harm you; but
I'll not be knocked down like a pig by you."

With a violent effort Johannes tried to throw off his brother. He
got one arm free, and threw himself to one side, reaching for the
knife, which lay a good arm's length away.

"Oh, that's your game!" said Lars Peter, forcing him down on to the
floor of the barn with all his weight, "I'd better tie you up. Bring
a rope, children!"

The three stood watching outside the barn-door; one behind the
other. "Come on!" shouted the father. Then Kristian rushed in for
Ditte, and she brought a rope. Without hesitation she went up to the
two struggling men, and gave it to her father. "Shall I help you?"
said she.

"No need for that, my girl," said Lars Peter, and laughed. "Just
hol