"That one doesn't guard the Crown's money any too well, eh?" grinned the crofter.
"Well, so far he's never lost so much as a shilling of what's the Crown's," Bengt snapped.
Always, when they put up anywhere, the Paymaster would carry in the money-chest and Bengt would follow with the food-box. But now, seeing how tired his master was, Bengt said, as the sledge stood before the wretched shed where the horse was to be stabled:
"Go in to bed, Master, and I'll be along later with the boxes."
"You need only bring in the one," the Paymaster told him.
When Bengt had unharnessed the horse and led it into the shed, he found that his master had already gone inside, and the crofter, too, had disappeared. The strong-box was not in the sledge, and he assumed that the master had taken it in as usual.
The Paymaster of the Regiment sat by the fire in a wretched little room when Bengt came in. He heard him put a box down, but was too dead tired even to turn his head.
"Lock the door, Bengt," he said, "and take out the key."
"'Twas not much use bringing in the empty food-box," Bengt observed.
"That's what I thought," said his master. "But we'll be able to sleep to-night without any supper."
Then he stretched himself out on a bare bench—
