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Updated: May 15, 2025
We thought you'd never come; why, it's nearly twelve o'clock!" Without a word I drew back my overcoat and laid my booty on the table. "By all the devils," exclaimed Solling in anatomical enthusiasm, "where did you find that superb arm? Simsen knows what he's about all right. It's a girl's arm; isn't it beautiful? Just look at the hand how fine and delicate it is! Must have worn a No. 6 glove.
The buyer can have possession of his purchase immediately after the auction, and a credit of six weeks will be given to any reliable customer. I bid a Danish shilling." "One mark," cried Sölling mockingly. "Two," cried somebody else. "Four," exclaimed Sölling. "It's worth it. Why don't you join in, Simsen? You look as if you were sitting in a hornet's nest."
"Here, Simsen, you know that factory inside and out, you're so friendly with that fellow Outzen who lives there. Run along to him and let him give you the key of the mill. It will be easy to find an arm that isn't too much decayed. Hurry along, now; the rest of us will wait for you upstairs." To be quite candid I must confess that I was not particularly eager to fulfill Solling's command.
"That was done by the same person who robbed me; the arms are taken off at the shoulder joint in exactly the same manner. You did it, Simsen!" I declared my innocence, very angry at the abuse of my fine skeleton, while Nansen cried: "Wait a moment, I'll bring in mine. There hasn't been a soul in my room since this morning, I can swear to that. I'll be back in an instant."
"That was done by the same person who robbed me; the arms are taken off at the shoulder joint in exactly the same manner. You did it, Simsen!" I declared my innocence, very angry at the abuse of my fine skeleton, while Nansen cried: "Wait a moment, I'll bring in mine. There hasn't been a soul in my room since this morning, I can swear to that. I'll be back in an instant."
I hid my booty under my overcoat, nodded to the sleepy old janitor as he opened the door to me, and a few moments later I entered my own room with an expression which I had attempted to make quite calm and careless. "What the devil is the matter with you, Simsen?" cried Sölling as he saw me. "Have you seen a ghost? Or is the punch wearing off already?
"Here, Simsen, you know that factory inside and out, you're so friendly with that fellow Outzen who lives there. Run along to him and let him give you the key of the mill. It will be easy to find an arm that isn't too much decayed. Hurry along, now; the rest of us will wait for you upstairs." To be quite candid I must confess that I was not particularly eager to fulfill Sölling's command.
Trembling in the thought that madness was threatening me, I tore open the first roll of paper. On it was written the name: "Solling." I caught at the second and opened it. There stood the word: "Nansen." I had just strength enough left to catch the third paper and open it there was my own name: "Simsen." Then I sank fainting to the floor.
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