"You'll put up at the Inn-farm to-night, Mr. Christiansson?"
"No doubt, Mr. Jonsson, no doubt."
"But there's to be an auction there in the morning, you know--I say there's to be an auction in the morning, so you'll be turned out to-morrow."
"Unless," said the captain, with a wink in his weather eye, "unless Mr. Christiansson buys up the old place and turns farmer and innkeeper."
"And why not, Captain Zimsen, why not?"
"Hard work early and late, sir."
"Well, no man ever won the day by snoring."
Christian Christiansson had swung to the saddle, when the Factor came up to him with his rheumy eyes shining, and said:
"Don't be surprised if I follow you to Thingvellir. Life is short, and before I die I have something to say to Magnus Stephenson."
"We talked of him on the ship, sir, didn't we--him and his rascally young brother?" said the merchant.