ndred miles from
here--over there towards the south. The best place to find him is
Monte Carlo--between five and seven. And his wife and daughters--I
suppose you want to see them too? Perhaps a little flirtation? A
little walk--underneath the palm-trees, what?"

"Good Lord! is he a grand sort like that," said Lars Peter,
crestfallen. "Well--maybe I can trade with you?"

"At your service, Mr. Jens Petersen from--Sengeloese; if you, sir,
will condescend to deal with a poor devil like me."

"I may just as well tell you that my name is Lars Peter Hansen--from
Sand."

"Indeed--the firm feels honored, highly honored, I assure you!" The
old man bustled round the cartload, taking in the value at a glance,
and talking all the time. Suddenly he seized the nag by the head,
but quickly let go, as Klavs snapped at him. "We'll drive it down
to the other yard," said he.

"I think we'd better leave the goods on the cart, until we've agreed
about the price," Lars Peter thought; he was beginning to be
somewhat suspicious.

"No, my man, we must have the whole thing emptied out, so that we
can see what we're buying," said the old man in quite another tone.
"That's not our way."

"And I don't sell till I know my price. It's all weighed and sorted,
Lars Peter's no cheat."

"No, no, of course not. So it's really you? Lars Peter Hansen--and
from Sand too--and no cheat. Come with me into the office then."

The rag and bone man followed him. He was a little bewildered, was
the man making a fool of him, or did he really know him? Round about
at home Lars Peter of Sand was known by every one; had his name as a
buyer preceded him?

He had all the weights in his head, and gave the figures, while the
old man put them down. In the midst of this he suddenly realized
that the cart had disappeared. He rushed out, and down in the other
yard found two men engaged in unloading the cart. For the second
time today Lars Peter lost his temper. "See and get those things on
to the cart again," he shouted, picking up his whip. The two men
hastily took his measure; then without a word reloaded the cart.

He was no longer in doubt that they would cheat him. The cursed
knaves! If they had emptied it all out on to the heap, then he could
have whistled for his own price. He drove the cart right up to the
office door, and kept the reins on his arm. The old fox stood by his
desk, looking at him out of the corners of his eyes. "Were they
taking your beauti