Then he comes back to us, wiping his
fingers with his handkerchief.
"Do you go ploughing with other people's horses, Nils?"
Pause.
"I'll not have it here; you understand?"
"H'm! No," says Nils submissively. Then suddenly he flares up: "We've more
need of horses this spring than any season ever at Ovrebo: we're taking up
more ground than ever before. And here were these strange cattle standing
here day after day eating and eating, and doing never so much as the worth
of the water they drank. So I took them out for a bit of a spell now and
then, just enough to keep them in trim."
"I'll have no more of it. You hear what I say?" repeated the Captain
shortly.
Pause.
"Didn't you say one of the Captain's plough horses was ailing yesterday?"
I put in.
Nils was quick to seize his chance.
"Ay. So it was. Standing all a-tremble in its box. I couldn't have taken
it out anyway."
The Captain looked me coldly up and down.
"What are you standing here for?" he asked sharply.
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