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Steve Whitney shook his head. “No—but I’ll tell you all about it as we go to the hotel. Grab your satchel and come along.” Over the sea sailed the umbrella—and there were Johnny and Tellef in the rocking boat far out from land. “Yes, I just tumbled right in.” He got up in bed, eager to show how he fell. “But it was horrid afterward, because some fine ladies and gentlemen came, who ate and drank there on the wharf a long time; and then Nils the fisherman lent me his blouse, and they gave me some cream cakes”—.
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No, the stranger thought not. Little Thumbling was not so much alarmed, and told his brothers to run quickly into the house while the ogre was sound asleep, and not to be uneasy about him. They took his advice and soon reached home. Little Thumbling then going up to the ogre, gently pulled off his boots, and put them on himself. The boots were very large and very long; but as they were enchanted boots, they had the quality of becoming larger or smaller according to the leg of the person who wore them, so that they fitted him as if they had been made for him. He went straight to the ogre's house, where he found the wife weeping over her murdered daughters. "Your husband," said Little Thumbling to her, "is in great danger, for he has been seized by a band of robbers, who have sworn to kill him if he does not give them all his gold and silver. Just as they had their daggers at his throat, he saw me, and begged me to come and tell you what had happened to him, and sent word that you were to give me all his ready money, without keeping back any of it, as otherwise they will kill him without mercy. As time pressed, he insisted on my taking his seven-league boots, which you see I have on, in order that I might make haste, and also that you might be sure I was not imposing upon you." No, she never thought he knew anything about anything, and that was so exasperating! He knew very well what the weather was; he knew all the kinds of fish that were for sale at the wharf every day; and he also knew that the old minister was to preach tomorrow; but do you suppose Aunt Grenertsen would believe a thing he told her? “I can’t depend on that,” she would say. “What?” echoed Mr. Whitney, who had decided as he listened to Bob’s story that the evidence against Jerry was sufficient to prove his guilt..
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