"So? We will only just look into the stable a little."
There stood Svarten and Brunen, just unharnessed, still dripping wet and with stiff hair after the work at the plough.
"Fine stall, eh?—and very light; the horses don't come out of the door half blind. Ho, Svarten, are you sweaty now?"
There was a warm and pleasant smell of the stable—and finally—
"Captain, I am going to make a re—"
"But, Ola," interrupted the latter, "see Brunen's crib there! I don't like those bits. It can't be that he bites it?"
"Ha, ha, ha—no, by no means." Ola grinned slyly; he was not going to admit in a stranger's presence that the captain's new bay was a cribber!
The captain had become very red; he pulled off his cap, and hurriedly walked along with it in his hand—"such a rascal of a horse-trader!"
He no longer looked as if he would listen to a request.
Out of the afternoon shade by the stable walls the two men just spoken of appeared.