Mysteries Read Online Free

one, two, four, seven—yes, seven people. What’s the matter with you this evening? You put on airs and act rude, wanting to trample us all underfoot. Oh yes, you do. Just because I touched your coat.”
    “I beg your pardon, I didn’t mean to be rude. You know I would do you any favor whatsoever, but ...”
    “All right, then do me the favor of sitting down.”
    Miniman brushes his gray hair from his forehead and sits down.
    “Good. And now, do me the favor of grinding your teeth a little.”
    “No, that I won’t do.”
    “You won’t, eh? Yes or no?”
    “Good God, what harm did I ever do you? Can’t you just leave me alone? Why should I, of all people, be the laughingstock of everybody? That stranger over there is looking in our direction, I see; he’s keeping an eye on us and I dare say he’s laughing, too. Things never change; the very first day you came here as a deputy judge, Dr. Stenersen jumped on me and taught you right away to make fun of me, and now you’re teaching the gentleman over there to do the same. They learn it by turn, one after the other.”
    “There, there now, yes or no?”
    “No, I tell you!” Miniman screams, jumping up from his chair. But as if afraid he’d been too overbearing, 1 he sits down again and adds, “I can’t even grind my teeth, you must believe me.”
    “You can’t? Ha-ha, surely you can. You’re a whiz at grinding your teeth.”
    “Upon my word, I can’t!”
    “Ha-ha-ha! You’ve done it before, after all.”
    “Yes, but then I was drunk. I don’t remember, my head was spinning. I was sick for two days afterward.”
    “Right,” says the deputy. “You were drunk at the time, I admit that. Anyway, why are you blabbering about this in front of all these people? You wouldn’t catch me doing anything like that.” 2
    At this point the hotel keeper left the café. Miniman is silent; the deputy looks at him and says, “Well, what do you say? Don’t forget that coat.”
    “I’m not forgetting it,” Miniman replies. “But I won‘t, and I can’t, drink any more, now you know.”
    “You will and you can, both! Did you hear what I said? You will and you can, I said. Even if I have to pour it down your throat....” At these words the deputy rises with Miniman’s glass in his hand. “Now, open your mouth!”
    “No, by God in heaven, I won’t drink any more beer,” cries Miniman, pale with emotion. “No power on earth can make me do it! I’m sorry, but it makes me sick, you have no idea what it’s like. Don’t hurt me so, I sincerely beg you. I’d rather—rather grind my teeth a little without any beer.”
    “Well, that’s another matter; damn it, yes, that’s quite another matter, if you’ll do it without beer.”
    “Yes, I’d rather do it without the beer.”
    At last Miniman grinds his terrible teeth, amid the loud laughter of the bystanders. Nagel is ostensibly still reading his paper, sitting quietly in his place by the window.
    “Louder, louder!” cries the deputy. “Grind them more loudly, or we can’t hear you.”
    Miniman sits stiffly upright, holding on to his chair with both hands as if afraid of falling off, grinding his teeth to make his head quiver. Everybody laughs, the peasant woman laughs so hard that she has to wipe her eyes; not knowing what to do for laughter, she witlessly spits twice on the floor in sheer delight.
    “God save me from the likes of you!” she squeals, quite overcome. “Oh, that deputy!” 3
    “There! I can’t grind them any louder,” Miniman says, “I really can’t, as God is my witness. Believe me, I can’t anymore.”
    “All right, take a rest for a moment and then start over. But you have to grind your teeth. Then we’ll snip off your beard. But taste your beer, will you; yes, you must. Here, it’s ready for you.”
    Miniman shakes his head in silence. The deputy takes out his wallet and puts a twenty-five øre piece on the table. Then he says, “By the way, you usually do it for ten,