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 great many red spots. So they concluded that the painter was at work, and determined to leave him alone another week, that he might finish his task.

When the two weeks had passed, the Plainfielder and his wife opened the door of the sheepfold and walked in. Both sheep-painter and sheep were gone. A few bloody hides and bones alone remained. A hole in the wall showed the way in which the painter had escaped.

"I have been cheated—shamefully deceived!" cried Christopher, while his wife began to cry and lament over the sheep. "But I will take revenge. Such a long, shrivelled rascal! I shall paint him, indeed, until he is both red and blue!" He made his horses and carriage ready, selected his best whip, and set out to cool his rage upon the cunning man in Hilltown who had treated him so shamefully.

Eric at once guessed his errand when he saw Christopher approaching, and running into the kitchen, he seized a pot with boiling soup and placed it on a stone in the yard. As the boiling did not cease at once, the first thing which Christopher caught sight of when he drove into the yard was this pot, which seemed to boil without fire or spark, standing on the cold stone. He at once forgot the sheep-painter and his own thoughts of revenge. Such a pot must be a great marvel. Before he drove out of the yard again he had bought it for fifty dollars. This time he felt sure the cunning Hilltown man could not deceive him, for