"What are you going to be?" he asked of Fritz.
"A clothing merchant, like my father."
"And cheat buyers by selling poor cloth."
"My father is no swindler," cried Fritz.
Franz had stood back; he did not like the looks of the group, but the roughest looking of the three now put the same question to him.
"A forest-keeper, like my father."
"Then it would be well for you to learn to be a butcher, as I am doing, so you could kill wild animals and dress them."
"Dress them!" exclaimed the boys in surprise.
"Yes, cut them up for packing, as we do cattle. Do you see this butcher knife?" and he held it up to view.
The triplets did not like the look of the butcher and his knife. They were anxious to move on and let the three strangers finish their sleep in the grass, but this was not the wish of their new acquaintances.