“It won’t be so easy, perhaps, for Jan to come up with one hundred rix-dollars,” returned Lars Gunnarson, “but just the same I’ve got to know what’s mine.”

“And so you’re going to steal our hut?”

“Nothing of the kind!” said Lars.  “The hut is yours.  It’s the land I’m after.”

“Then we can move the hut off of your land,” said Katrina.

“It would hardly be worth your while to go to the bother of moving something you’ll not be able to keep.”

“Well, I never!” gasped Katrina.  “Then you really do mean to lay hands on our property?”

Lars Gunnarson made a gesture of protest.

No, of course he did not want to put a lien on the house, not he!  Had he not already told them as much?  But it so happened that the storekeeper at Broby had sent his clerk with some accounts that had not been settled.

The clerk now produced the bills and laid them on the table.  Katrina pushed them over to Glory Goldie and told her to figure up the total amount due.

It was no less than one hundred rix-dollars that they owed!

Katrina went white as a sheet.  “I see that you mean to turn us out of house and home,” she said, faintly.

“Oh, no,” answered Lars, “not if you pay what you owe.”

“You ought to think of your own parents, Lars,” Katrina reminded him.  “They, too, had their struggles before you became the son-in-law of a rich farmer.”

Katrina had to do all the talking, as Jan would not say anything; he only sat and looked at Glory Goldie—­looked and waited.  To his mind this affair was just something that had been planned for her special benefit, that she might prove her worth.

“When you take the hut away from the poor man he’s done for,” wailed Katrina.

“I don’t want to take the hut,” said Lars Gunnarson, on the defensive.  “All I want is a settlement.”

But Katrina was not listening.  “As long as the poor man has his home he’s as good as anybody else, but the homeless man knows he’s nobody.”

Jan felt that Katrina was right.  The hut was built of old lumber and stood aslant on a poor foundation.  Small and cramped it certainly was, but just the same it seemed as if all would be over for them if they lost it.  Jan, for his part, could not think for a second it would be as bad as that.  Was not his Glory Goldie there?  And could he not see how her eyes were beginning to flash fire?  In a little while she would say something or do something that would drive these tormentors away.

“Of course you’ve got to have time to think it over,” said the new owner.  “But bear in mind that either you move on the first of October or you pay the storekeeper at Broby the one hundred rix-dollars you owe him on or before that date.  Besides, I must have another hundred for the land.”

Old Katrina sat wringing her toil-gnarled hands.  She was so wrought up that she talked to herself, not caring who heard her.