"
The man with the tired eyes turned to Ola.
"What is the girl's name, Ola?" he asked.
The mountaineer thought awhile, then said:
"I can't remember it. I must ask her."
"Ask her! Is she already here?"
"She's down at the camp."
"What, Ola! Have you taken her in before knowing her father's wishes?"
"What do I care for her father! If he isn't dead, he's probably the kind
of man who cares nothing for his child. He may be glad to have another
take her in hand."
The fisherman threw down his rod and rose with an alertness in his
movements that bespoke new life.
"I don't think her father can be like other folk," continued the
mountaineer. "I dare say he is a man who is haunted by gloomy
forebodings and therefore can not work steadily. What kind of a father
would that be for the girl?"
While Ola was talking the fisherman started up the strand.
"Where are you going?" queried the Lapp.
"I'm going to have a look at your foster-daughter, Ola."
"Good!" said the Lapp. "Come along and meet her. I think you'll say
that she will be a good daughter to me."
The Swede rushed on so rapidly that the Laplander could hardly keep pace
with him.
After a moment Ola said to his companion:
"Now I recall that her name is Osa--this girl I'm adopting."
The other man only kept hurrying along and old Ola Serka was so well
pleased that he wanted to laugh aloud.
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