Glory Goldie knew, to be sure, that Agrippa Praestberg was not the kind of man who would steal, and he never struck any one unless they called him Grippie, or offered him buttered bread, nor did he stop long at a place where folk had the good luck not to have a Darlecarlian clock in the house.

Agrippa went about in the parish “doctoring” clocks, and once he set foot in a house where there was a tall, old-fashioned chimney clock he could not rest until he had removed the works, to see if there was anything wrong with them.  And he never failed to find flaws which necessitated his taking the whole clock apart.  That meant he would be days putting it together again.  Meantime, one had to house and feed him.

The worst of it was that if Agrippa once got his hands on a clock it would never run as well as before, and afterward one had to let him tinker it at least once a year, or it would stop going altogether.  The old man tried to do honest and conscientious work, but just the name he ruined all the clocks he touched.

Therefore it was best never to let him fool with one’s clock.  That Glory Goldie knew, of course, but she saw no way of saving the Dalecarlian timepiece, which was ticking away inside the hut.

Agrippa knew of the clock being there and had long watched for an opportunity to get at it, but at other times when he was seen thereabout, Katrina had been at home to keep him at a safe distance.

When the old man came up he stopped right in front of the little girl, struck the ground with his stick, and rattled off: 

“Here comes Johan Utter Agrippa Praestberg, drummer-boy to His Royal Highness and the Crown!  I have faced shot and shell and fear neither angels nor devils.  Anybody home?”

Glory Goldie did not have to reply, for he strode past her into the house and went straight over to the big Dalecarlian clock.

The girl ran in after him and tried to tell him what a good clock it was, that it ran neither too fast nor too slow and needed no mending.

“How can a clock run well that has not been regulated by Johan Utter Agrippa Praestberg!” the old man roared.

He was so tall he could open the clock-case without having to stand on a chair.  In a twinkling he removed the face and the works and placed them on the table.  Glory Goldie clenched the hand under her apron, and tears came to her eyes; but what could she do to stop him?

Agrippa was in a fever of a hurry to find out what ailed the clock, before Jan or Katrina could get back and tell him it needed no repairing.  He had brought with him a small bundle, containing work-tools and grease jars, which he tore open with such haste that half its contents fell to the floor.

Glory Goldie was told to pick up everything that had dropped.  And any one who has seen Agrippa Praestberg must know she would not have dared do anything but obey him.  She got down on all fours and handed him a tiny saw and a mallet.