k.
"It'll come soon enough," said the inn-keeper, "just give it time."

Time--it was easy to say. But here he was waiting, with his savings
dwindling away--and what was he really waiting for? That there might
be an accident, so he could fill the place--it was not a pleasant
thought. It had been arranged that the inn-keeper should help Lars
Peter to get a big boat, and let him manage it; at least, so Lars
Peter had understood before he moved down to the hamlet. But it had
evidently been a great misunderstanding.

He went about lending a hand here and there, and replacing any one
who was ill. "Just wait a little longer," said the inn-keeper.
"It'll be all right in the end! You can get what you want at the
store." It was as if he were keeping Lars Peter back for some
purpose of his own.

At last the spring came, heralded by furious storms and accidents
round about the coast. One morning Lars Jensen's boat came in,
having lost its master; a wave had swept him overboard.

"You'd better go to the inn-keeper at once," said his two partners
to Lars Peter.

"But wouldn't it be more natural to go to Lars Jensen's widow?"
asked Lars Peter. "After all, 'tis she who owns the share now."

"We don't want to be mixed up in it," said they cautiously. "Go to
whoever you like. But if you've money in the house, you should put
it into the bank--the hut might easily catch fire." They looked
meaningly at each other and turned away.

Lars Peter turned this over in his mind--could that be the case? He
took the two thousand crowns he had put by from the sale to build
with, and went up to the inn-keeper.

"Will you take care of some money for me?" he said in a low voice.
"You're the savings bank for us down here, I've been told."

The inn-keeper counted the money, and locked it up in his desk. "You
want a receipt, I suppose?" said he.

"No-o, it doesn't really matter," Lars Peter said slowly. He would
have liked a written acknowledgment, but did not like to insist on
it. It looked as if he mistrusted the man.

The inn-keeper drew down the front of the desk--it sounded to Lars
Peter like earth being thrown on a coffin. "We can call it a deposit
on the share in the boat," said he. "I've been thinking you might
take Lars Jensen's share."

"Oughtn't I to have arranged it with Lars Jensen's widow, and not
with you?" said Lars Peter. "She owns the share."

The inn-keeper turned towards him. "You seem to know more about
other people's