sternly. "So produce it at once! You know what happens to those who steal the Crown's money."
"Now where could we hide a big money-chest?" the woman protested blandly. "Ye can see for yerself what's here, and ye're welcome to search the house."
And that Bengt had already done. He had peered and poked into every nook and corner—and had found nothing.
"If you won't give it up willingly," said the Paymaster, I shall have to leave my man here on guard while I go for the bailiff."
"What, that fellow stay and keep guard over us!" almost laughed the woman.
Nor was it likely that Bengt, single-handed, could have kept six persons quietly seated in the hut while his master went in search of the bailiff. But all this time Bengt had been puzzling over something. He heard a crackling noise coming from the bake-oven, but saw no evidences of dough having been prepared. Without a word, he stole up and flung open the oven door.
"Come here, Master, he cried, "and see the kind of bread they bake in this here oven."
In there on a pyre of burning wood stood the money-chest.
The crofter and his wife now sprang at Bengt, but Paymaster Lagerlöf, who was a powerful man, pushed them back. When the other four, who had also begun to bestir themselves, saw the kind of thrusts he could give, they kept out of his reach. Bengt seized the
