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Updated: June 19, 2025
"You'll see he'll free himself; the Evil One'll have no claim upon him," was the opinion of both Lasse and the laborers' wives when they discussed Per Olsen's prospects at the Sunday milking. "There are some people that even the Almighty can't find anything to blame for." Pelle listened to this, and tried every day to peep at the scar on Per Olsen's thumb.
Over at Olsen's their daughter Elvira had come home. The blind was not drawn, and she was standing at the window with her huge hat with flowers in it, allowing herself to be admired. Marie came running in. "Have you seen how fine she is, Pelle?" she said, quite stupefied. "And she gets all that for nothing from the gentlemen, just because they think she's so pretty.
Kit, however, did not feel tempted, although he wanted to find out something about Olsen's plans. "You seem to take my agreement for granted," he remarked. "You must see that I could embarrass you by telling Alvarez." Olsen laughed. "You could put him wise; but you couldn't embarrass us. The president knows whom he's up against. The trouble is he isn't strong enough to get after us."
Still, he kept up a frenzied hunting and inspired the laborers to do likewise. About ten o'clock an excited shout from Bill drew Kurt's attention, and he ran along the edge of the field. Bill was sweaty and black, yet through it all Kurt believed he saw the man was pale. He pointed with shaking hand toward Olsen's hill. Kurt vibrated to a shock.
You left your fields!" gasped Kurt. "Sure. They're not much to leave. And we're goin' to save this section of yours or bust tryin'!... I sent my son in his car, all over, to hurry men here with horses, machines, wagons." Kurt was overcome. He could only wring Olsen's hand. Here was an answer to one of his brooding, gloomy queries. Something would be gained, even if the wheat was lost.
Tears of anger came into his eyes, and his Scandinavian explosions could not be stopped until he was given a place in the heavy division, the craps-player jumping at the chance to take out Olsen's light team. Five teams were accepted and were being harnessed and loaded, but only four drivers had satisfied the committee of the whole. "There's Cultus George," some one cried.
"'Tis all she or any woman deserves that'll put up an' live with a scab. What about her children? Let'm starve, an' her man a-takin' the food out of other children's mouths." Mrs. Olsen's attitude was different. Beyond passive sentimental pity for Henderson's wife and children, she gave them no thought, her chief concern being for Otto Frank and Otto Frank's wife and children herself and Mrs.
Since everything, in one way or another, was a "cross" to be borne, she did not fail, even in this case, to make it appear that her long-suffering was proof against every trial. Mrs. Olsen returned home beaming. She would have been balked of half her pleasure in this marriage if she had not been allowed to give the wedding party; for wedding-parties were Mrs. Olsen's specialty.
Over the hills faint reflection of dying flames lit up the dark clouds of smoke. The battle seemed won. Then came the thrilling cry: "Fire! Fire!" One of the outposts came running out of the dark. "Fire! the other side! Fire!" rang out Olsen's yell. Kurt ran with the gang pell-mell through the dark, up the barley slope, to see a long red line, a high red flare, and lifting clouds of ruddy smoke.
"Madam Olsen! Your pork is burning!" cried a dozen women at once. "That's because the frying-pan's too small!" replied Frau Olsen, thrusting her red head out through the balusters. "What's a poor devil to do when her frying-pan's too small?" And Madam Olsen's frying-pan was the biggest in the whole "Ark"! Shortly before the twilight fell Pelle came home from the workshop.
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