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There's only a couple of Company Injuns, an' my clerk." Murchison paused. "Sven!" he called. "Sven Larson! Where are ye? Come down out of that fur loft! I've a job for ye." Slow, heavy footsteps sounded upon the floor above, and a moment later two feet appeared upon the ladder, and very deliberately the clerk negotiated the descent. "Sven Larson, this is Mr. Wentworth.
" I should like to walk up and see Halstead Street, if it isn't too far," said Carrie, after a time. " Why don't we go to the theatre to- night?" " Oh, I don't think Sven would want to go to-night," returned Minnie. " He has to get up so early." " He wouldn't mind-he'd enjoy it," said Carrie. " No, he doesn't go very often," returned Minnie. " Well, I'd like to go," rejoined Carrie.
Outside the door Sven Anderssen paused with the noonday meal he had been carrying to Lady Greystoke. Upon the end of his long, stringy neck his little head was cocked to one side, his close-set eyes were half closed, his ears, so expressive was his whole attitude of stealthy eavesdropping, seemed truly to be cocked forward even his long, yellow, straggly moustache appeared to assume a sly droop.
She felt now was the time to express to Carrie the state of Hanson's feeling about her entire Chicago venture. " If you shouldn't get it-" she paused, troubled for an easy way. " If I don't get something pretty soon, I think I'll go home." Minnie saw her chance. " Sven thinks it might be best for the winter, anyhow." The situation flashed on Carrie at once.
I reckon you must be a throw back to my mother's grandfather, who was a Norse sailor, and reckless and wasteful and red-headed." "Maybe so! At any rate I'm going to plough some guano into these acres, even though I can't plough the seas like my worthy grandpap, Sven Thorwald Woden, or whatever his name was. Just look at our wheat, Mother!
Sven Hedin rendered invaluable services in this way to the Kaiser and the Fatherland, throwing the glamour of his name over a movement of which the ultimate tendency was national suicide.
"I thought Orcutt said you were beginning to slip!" "Well, maybe he's right," admitted McNabb, and the engineer saw that his lips twitched at the corners. "Who was your representative?" he demanded abruptly. "And, how did it come that he arrived just in the nick of time?" "Why, his name is Sven Larsen. He's Murchison's clerk," answered the Scot. "And he was here all the time."
The man Sven Hedin saw had been immured for sixty-nine years, and wished to see the sun again. "He was all bent up as small as a child, and his body was nothing but a light-grey parchment-like skin and bones. His eyes had lost their colour, and were quite bright and blind. S. Theresa once said that she had a vision of Hell.
And in the morning came Sven, the gamekeeper, with a load of straw, at the bottom of which he hid him. So no one would be the wiser. It was well he did it, for half-way to the next town some prowling soldiers overtook them, and just to make sure that there was nothing in the straw, prodded the load with their spears. Nothing stirred, and they went on their way.
"I've always let you boss things, Sven; but here's a case where what I say has got to go because I'm right and you're wrong, and we both know it." "You're getting damned virtuous all of a sudden," growled Malbihn. "Perhaps you think I have forgotten about the inn keeper's daughter, and little Celella, and that nigger at " "Shut up!" snapped Jenssen.
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