But no one can know a dog by his coat only. This most respectful and simple lad began to disappear from the playground in the afternoons; he was not at home (he lived with his aunt, his father's sister), and he was not at the Schultzes, where he used to help two of the children with their lessons--he always did that directly after dinner; neither was he at the head-master's, which was the same as being with the master's adopted daughter, Josephine Kallem, Edward's sister; Ole and she were always so much together. Sometimes the other lads would see him go in there, but never come out again, and yet they always found Josephine alone when they went in to look for him; for they posted out sentinels, and the whole search was carried on most methodically. They could track him as far as to the school-yard but no farther--surely he could not have disappeared into the earth? They ransacked the yard from one end to the other, every corner, every hiding-place was visited over and over again; Josephine herself went about with the boys and took them even up to the cock-loft, down into the cellar, and into every room where none of the family were sitting, assuring them, on her word of honour, that he was not there; but they could look for themselves. Where in all the world was he then? It so happened that the dux of the school had just won in a lottery "Les trois Mousquetaires," by Alexandre Dumas the elder, a splendid book, with illustrations; but as he soon discovered it was not the kind of book for so learned a man as he, he offered it as a reward to that one of his school-fellows who could find out where Ole Tuft went to, and what he did in the afternoons and evenings. This seemed a very enticing offer to Edward Kallem; he had always lived in Spain until about a year ago; he could read French just as well as Norwegian, and he had heard that "Les trois Mousquetaires" was the most splendid novel in the world. And now he stood sentinel for "Les trois Mousquetaires." Hurrah for all the three! now they would be his. Down he crept softly, softly, until he reached the path; the culprit was close at hand. There was something about Edward Kallem's head that made one think of a bird of prey. The nose was like a beak; the eyes wild looking, partly from their expression and partly because they had a slight squint. His forehead was sharp and short, the light brown hair closely cropped around it. There was an extraordinary mobility about him which made one feel that he was very agile. He was standing still, but he bent his body forward, shifted his feet and raised his arms as though the next moment he would throw himself into the air. "Boo-oo!" shouted he with all the strength of his lungs. How he startled the boy who was climbing up--he nearly dropped his box. "Now I have got you! It's all up with your secret now!" Ole Tuft was like one turned to stone.