rd went out, leaving the two American boys and the Englishman
in the public room of the road-house. Scarcely had he departed when a
side door opened and a man came in, evidently not in the best of humor.

"You dog of a landlord!" he cried, in Norwegian. "Where are you? My
room is as cold as a barn. I want some extra wood put on the fire at
once. This is a scurvy way to treat the burgomaster of Masolga."

"Hello!" cried Dave, in a low voice, and plucked his chum by the sleeve.
"Here is the brute of the railway coach."

"Sure enough," murmured the senator's son. "I never thought we'd meet
him up here. Wonder if he'll say anything if he sees us?"

"Humph! so he's the burgomaster of Masolga, eh?" muttered Granbury
Lapham. "I pity the townfolks under him."

"I say, do you hear, landlord?" stormed the burgomaster, striding
around. "Are you deaf, that I must wear my lungs out calling you? If I
had---- Ha!"

He stopped short, for his striding around had brought him face to face
with our friends. He was astonished, then glared at the three as if they
were deadly enemies.

"You!" he cried. "You! What brought you to this place? Are you following
me?"

"We are not following you," answered the Englishman.

"I thought I was done with you! That I would never behold any of you
again!" went on the burgomaster. "You are English cattle."

"And you are a Norwegian pig," answered Granbury Lapham. His English
blood could not stand the insult.

"Ha! this to me? Me! the burgomaster of Masolga!" The speaker stamped
violently on the floor with his heavy boot. "You shall pay for that
insult! A pig! I will show you!"

"You started the quarrel, I did not," said the Englishman. He was a
trifle alarmed over the turn affairs had taken.

"Are you stopping here?" demanded the burgomaster, after an ugly pause.

"We expect to stop here."

"It shall not be--I will not have you in the house with me! Such English
cattle! Hi, you, Mina!"--this to a servant who had come in. "Call your
master at once, I must see him."

The servant departed, her wooden shoes clattering loudly on the bare
floor. The burgomaster of Masolga paced up and down, slapping his hands
together.

"I will show you your place!" he muttered, with a malicious look on his
face. "Wait! Yes, wait!"

In a moment more the landlord came in, almost out of breath.

"A thousand pardons!" he said, bowing low. "It was stupid of Jan to let
the fire burn low. I have ordered more woo