’Rasmus stole up beside him....
The traveler lay in the ditch.
’Rasmus jumped on the horse, the wallet in his hand, and galloped home, stabling the beautiful animal in his cabin to avoid being suspected of the murder.
Placing his shoe in front of the one window of the cabin, that none might see him, he counted the money, and found it amounted to just $600, which, together with the $3000, formed the sum required by the sheriff. This made him so happy that he picked up a banjo and played Wagner’s “Götterdämmerung” through once or twice, accompanying himself on his throat in a rich tenor. He then turned out the gas and retired, to sleep as only a good, unselfish soul can.
III
It is 11:45 A. M. The squire and his family, who have heard nothing from ’Rasmus, are on the veranda, anxiously awaiting the arrival of the sheriff.
11:50 A. M.! Is ’Rasmus dead? Has the sheriff relented?
11:55. Good lack! The sheriff is seen galloping toward the house, and yet there is no sign of ’Rasmus.
That individual, who is nothing if not dramatic, is sitting behind the house on horseback, awaiting the stroke of twelve.