arin's only thought was how she
should get her sisters away from the house, that they might escape
the misery in which she herself had to live. In the course of the
summer she managed to marry off the two older girls, and the two
younger ones she sent to America, where they had relatives who were
well-to-do.

All the sisters received their proportion of the inheritance, which
amounted to twenty thousand kroner each. The farm had been left to
Karin, with the understanding that young Ingmar was to take it over
when he became of age.

It seemed remarkable that Karin, who was so awkward and diffident,
should have been able to send so many birds from the nest, find
mates for them, and homes. She arranged it all herself, for she
could get no help whatever from her husband, who had now become
utterly worthless.

Her greatest concern, however, was the little brother--he who was
now Ingmar Ingmarsson. The boy exasperated Karin's husband even
more than the sisters had done. He did it by actions rather than
words. One time he poured out all the corn brandy Elof had brought
home; another time the brother-in-law caught him in the act of
diluting his liquor with water.

When autumn came Karin demanded that the boy be sent back to high
school that year, as in former years, but her husband, who was also
his guardian, would not hear of it.

"Ingmar shall be a farmer, like his father and me and my father,"
said Elof. "What business has he at high school? When the winter
comes, he and I will go into the forest to put up charcoal kilns.
That will be the best kind of schooling for him. When I was his
age, I spent a whole winter working at the kiln."

As Karin could not induce him to alter his mind, she had to make
the best of it and keep Ingmar at home for the time being.

Elof then tried to win the confidence of little Ingmar. Whenever he
went anywhere he always wanted the boy to accompany him. The lad
went, of course, but unwillingly. He did not like to go with him on
his sprees. Then Elof would coax the boy, and vow that he was not
going any farther than the church or the shop. But when once he got
Ingmar in the cart, he would drive off with him, down to the
smithies at Bergsana, or the tavern in Karmsund.

Karin was glad that her husband took the boy along; it was at least
a safeguard against Elof being left in a ditch by the roadside, or
driving the horse to death.

Once, when Elof came home at eight in the morning, Ingmar