together into two menacing slits, and his very clothing bristled with
haughtiness. He deigned no answer whatsoever.

A pause, and Kark followed his voice. "What now, you cub of a lazy
mastiff! I told you, quickly; the beer will get on his clothes."

With immovable calmness, Alwin went on with his grinding. Only after the
fourth round he said coldly: "It would save time if you would do your
work yourself."

Kark gasped with amazement. This to him, the slave-born son of Eric's
free steward, who held the whip-hand over all the thralls at Brattahlid!
His china-blue eyes snapped spitefully.

"It does not become the bowerman of Leif Ericsson to do the dirty work
of a foreign whelp. If you have the ambition to be more than--"

He was interrupted by the sound of approaching thunder. Valbrand
descended upon them, his new tunic drenched, the scars on his battered
old face showing livid red.

"Is it likely that I will wait all day while two thralls quarrel over
precedence?" he roared. "The Troll take me if I do not throw one of you
to Ran before the journey is over! Go instantly--"

"I am sharpening Leif's blade," Kark struck in; he had indeed drawn a
knife and sharpening-stone from his girdle. "It is not becoming for me
to leave the chief's work for another task."

The argument was unassailable. To the unlucky man-of-all-work the