work, just as surprised as everybody else.
The sheriff was bound to reach the conclusion that Count Posse had been killed by a stray shot – perhaps from a poacher in the forest?
The rifle was loaded. Olle Creep took his position by a small peephole up in the hayloft.
The estate owner was coming ... that snooty devil of a judge. Now Olle Creep would get even with him! He would get revenge for every year he had slogged, every single stone he had carried ...
A little farther into the field! There! Perfect! Now you’re about to die, my friend! Olle’s finger was bent, ready to fire a shot.
“Boo!”
Olle started. A small shadow had appeared behind a pillar and he heard laughter.
“I frightened you, didn’t I?” Tula laughed. “You didn’t see me at all!”
Olle Creep cursed silently as he tried to hide the rifle, which wasn’t easy.