I'll write Larsen to-night, Thompson.

"Yes," drawled Larsen in a meditative voice, "pretty enough to look atbut he looks scaredertimid.

About half an hour before sunrise Morten Bruus came to my house and had with him the cotter Jens Larsen of Veilbye, and the widow and daughter of the shepherd of that parish.

"Is they any strangers in town?" asked Larsen with his peculiar, foolish grin.