The record-union., 1897-05-30
THE CRIME OF LARS OLSEN.


stood straight up in the still air from
chimney, but there We're, as yet, no
other signs of life Up above on the
mountain, ragged streaks of mist clung
among the fir trees over the brawling
Mesna, whose distant roar. at the falls,
| feu upon the ear in sort of rhythm.
Below, heavy bank. Opaque and white,
/ had taken the place of the blue mirror
of Lake Mjosen and followed the course
OF the Laugen up into the deep valley
at its end. From some invisible pasture
/ on the other side of the lake could be
heard the occasional tinkle of a cow
bell. but this and the half-felt beat of
| the falls were the only sounds.
| Suddenly a cry, high and piercing.
came from the further end of the long
village street. 1t was quickly taken up
by another and another, and in between
could now be heard the clatter of feet.
On IT came, gathering all the time in
intensity, hue and cry of many peo-
pie, men and women, half-dreSSed and
bareheaded, and in front of them ran a
| man without coat or shoes, his shirt
unbuttOned at the neck, his hair dis
hevelled and his eyes bloodshot. They
were gaining upon him rapidly, and
when he reached the stone bridge over
the Mesna they were close upon his
heels, and the foremost of his pursuers
struck him violently with a stick,
as he was about, to hurl himself over
the low parapet of the bridge. He
turned then and wrested the stick away
and fought with the fierceness of a wild
beast, but they were too many for him,
m Sr,it hi ct 1aC
a half-dozen strong men had soon PIN
ioned him. fast by arms and legs and
laid him helpless on the ground. They
had hot dispute regarding him, both
men and women. Some were for carry
ing out his own purpose, and hurting
him, then and there, into the Mesna,
which boiled on the rocks below, but
better counsels prevailed, and parts of
a rope harness having been brought
| from the inn stable near by, he was Sc
| curely bound. He submitted impas-
! sively, with his head bowed down on
his breast and, held on either side by
two of the burliest of his captors, and
preceded and followed by crowd that
completely choked up the narrow street,
he was led away to the village Jail, of
which he was presently the solitary oc-
| cupant.
| For a while after the men had left
him he paced rapidly up and down the
room, his arms still tied behind him,
and then he threw himself down on the
wooden bench without a back that was
the only article of furniture. Outside,
| had he listened, he could have heard
! the hurrying feet of the people who
| thrOnged the street, necessarily going
and coming, for the news had spread
| through the village, from end to end,
and there was not a child who did not
know it, but he was oblivious to every
thing except his own thoughts. Tears,
wrung from his heart by his very bit
terness of spirit, rolled down his cheeks
| and in an agony of self-reproach he
cried aloud 20, God, how could 1 have
done it, and he was my friend!"
His friend, at this moment, lay dead
in a little weather-beaten house at the
end of the village with an ugly wound
in his left breast, over his heart. About
the house the crowd surged, blocking up
the street from side to side, and all talk
ing eagerly about what had happened.
Some boys had even climbed into the
trees on the other side of the street Op
posite the house, where they sat perched
high above the rest. Those nearest
peered in through the windows. few
only, the district physician, the rnagis-
trate and other officials, were inside in
the room at the left of the doorway,
where they sat discussing the case. In
the other room, lying in his own blood on
| the bed in the corner of the workshop,
his tools as he had laid them down the
evening before, and shoe half mended
| on his leather seated bench, was Nils
Nordrum, the master of the house, still
| and cold. There was no sign of a strug-
gle. Everything was apparently in its
proper place. The room had been used
as a shop in common by old Nils and
| Lars Olsen, who now sat in Jail. The
| tools and appliances of both men were
| there as usual, in an orderly litter, with
| the single exception that had been acci-
| dentally noted. The doctor, namely
when he had made his examination of
the wound of the dead man, remarked
that it had been done with a knife of a
peculiar shape, possibly a shoe knife
and the magistrate thereupon sought
for and found Nordrum's own knife
among the tools on his bench Olsens,
1
though they searched, then and after
ward, high and low, could nowhere be
discovered, a fact that subsequently
told heavily against him.
The officials in the next room had thor
oughy considered the case. There were
some puzzlng features in it which they
| did not understand, but there was no
doubt at all of the dastardly nature of
the deed or its perpetrator Why Lars
| Olsen, weak and vacillating though he
was, should have committed murder
they could not tell He drank more than
was good for him; the whole village
knew that, but he was not vicious, and
| he had never done anything worse than
to reel stupidity home after one of his
periodical lapses. Nils Nordrum, with
whom he lived, man and boy, was his
friend, had taught him his trade, and
had always given him over and above
his just share of the in-takings of the lit
| tie shop. He was even more than his
friend, he was his guardian angel and
he had suffered from his weaknesses and
put up with his waywardnesses patient
| ly and uncomplainingly, where another
man would long since have cast him off
without ceremony, glad to be rid of
such a worthless fellow. Without old
Nils, Lars Olsen would have gone to the
dogs long ago-any one in Lillehammer
would have told you so. Lars knew it,
too, perfectly we'll, and he loved the old
er man in an undemonstrative way that
everybody none the less recognized to
be genuine. Nils was poor man, and
as far as any one knew had never saved
any money. They had talked all this