“Look,” says he, “we will have no dilly-dallying; I want my money and I will have it,” and he fetched a kick at the tree that made the bark fly. But he might as well have kicked my grandfather’s bedpost for all the good he had of it. “Oh, very well!” says he, and off he marched and brought the axe that stood back of the stable door. Hui! how the chips flew! for Caspar was bound to get to the bottom of the business. So by and by the tree lay on the ground, and there was the bag of gold and silver money that the wicked robber had hidden. “So!” says Caspar, “better late than never!” and off he marched with it. By and by whom should he meet but John and James. Bless me, how they stared! And did Caspar get all of that money for one little black hen? Oh, yes; that he had. And where did he get it? Oh! the little old man in the willow-tree had paid it to him. So, good! that was a fine thing, and it should be share and share alike among brothers; that was what John and James said, and Caspar did not say “No;” so down they all sat on the grass and began counting it out. “This is mine,” said John. “And this is mine,” said James. “And this is mine,” said John. “And this is mine,” said James. “And where is mine?” says Caspar. But neither of the others thought of him because he was so simple. Just then who should come along but the rogue of a landlord. “Hi! and where did you get all that?” says he. [Illustration: Caspar findeth money in the willow-tree.] “Oh,” says Caspar, “the little old man in the willow-tree paid it to me for my little black hen.” Yes, yes, the landlord knew how much of that cake to eat. He was not to have the wool pulled over his eyes so easily. See, now, he knew very well that thieving had been done, and he would have them all up before the master mayor for it. So the upshot of the matter was that they had to take him in to share with them. “This is mine,” says the landlord. “And this is mine,” says John. “And this is mine,” says James. “And where do I come in?” says poor Caspar. But nobody thought of him because he was so simple. Just then came along a company of soldiers—tramp! tramp! tramp!—and there they found them all sharing the money between them, except Caspar. “Hi!” says the captain, “here are a lot of thieves, and no mistake!” and off he marched them to the king’s house, which was finer than any in our town, and as big as a church into the bargain. And how had they come by all that money? that was what the king would like to know. As for the three rogues, they sang a different tune now than they had whistled before. “It’s none of mine, it’s his,” said the landlord, and he pointed to John. “It’s none of mine, it’s his,” said John, and he pointed to James. “It’s none of mine, it’s his,” said James, and he pointed to Caspar. “And how did you get it?” says the king.