"Not be in the race! Why not indeed?" and immediately Peter's thoughts swept on a full tide of suspicion toward Carl Schummel. "Because I cannot, mynheer," answered Hans, as he bent to slip his feet into his big shoes. Something in the boy's manner warned Peter that it would be no kindness to press the matter further. He bade Hans "good-bye," and stood thoughtfully watching him as he walked away. In a minute Peter called out: "Hans Brinker!" "Yes, mynheer." "I'll take back all I said about Dr. Boekman." "Yes, mynheer." Both were laughing. But Peter's smile changed to a look of puzzled surprise when he saw Hans kneel down by the canal and put on the wooden skates. "Very queer," muttered Peter shaking his head as he turned to go into the house; "why in the world don't the boy wear his new ones?" XLI THE FAIRY GODMOTHER The sun had gone down quite out of sight when our hero--with a happy heart but with something like a sneer on his countenance, as he jerked off the wooden "runners"--trudged hopefully toward the tiny hut-like building, known of old as the Idiot's cottage. Duller eyes than his would have discerned two slight figures moving near the doorway. That gray, well-patched jacket and the dull blue skirt covered with an apron of still duller blue, that faded, close-fitting cap, and those quick little feet in their great boat-like shoes, they were Gretel's of course. He would have known them anywhere. That bright coquettish red jacket, with its pretty skirt, bordered with black, that graceful cap bobbing over the gold earrings, that dainty apron, and those snug leather shoes that seemed to have grown with the feet--Why if the Pope of Rome had sent them to him by express, Hans could have sworn they were Annie's. The two girls were slowly pacing up and down in front of the cottage. Their arms were entwined, of course, and their heads were nodding and shaking as emphatically as if all the affairs of the kingdom were under discussion. With a joyous shout, Hans hastened toward them. "Huzza, girls, I've found work!" This brought his mother to the cottage door. She, too, had pleasant tidings. The father was still improving. He had been sitting up nearly all day, and was now sleeping as Dame Brinker declared, "just as quiet as a lamb." "It is my turn now, Hans," said Annie, drawing him aside after he had told his mother the good word from Mynheer van Holp. "Your skates are sold and here's the money." "Seven guilders!" cried Hans counting the pieces in astonishment; "why, that is three times as much as I paid for them." "I cannot help that," said Annie. "If the buyer knew no better, it is not our fault." Hans looked up quickly. "Oh, Annie!" "Oh, Hans!" she mimicked, pursing her lips, and trying to look desperately wicked and unprincipled. "Now, Annie, I know you would never mean that! You must return some of this money."