coffee, every one spoke of how well Jan had done, that is, every
one but the farmer and his wife; not a word of praise came from
them.

But now that Jan felt so confident his hard times were over and his
luck was coming back, it was easy for him to find grounds for
comfort. It might be that Lars was silent because he wished to make
what he would say all the more impressive. But he was certainly
withholding his thanks a distressingly long while.

The situation had become embarrassing. The others had stopped
talking and looked a little uncomfortable. When the old mistress
went round to refill the coffee cups some of the men hesitated; Jan
among them.

"Oh, have another wee drop, Jan!" she said. "If you hadn't been so
quick to act we would have lost a cow that's worth her two hundred
rix-dollars."

This was followed by a dead silence, and now every one's eyes
turned toward the man of the house. All were waiting for some
expression of appreciation from him.

Lars cleared his throat two or three times, as if to give added
weight to what he was about to say.

"It strikes me there's something queer about this whole business,"
he began. "You all know that Jan owes two hundred rix-dollars and
you also know that last spring I was offered just that sum for the
cow. It seems to fit in altogether too well with Jan's case that