Nothing availed; he had to sell
it at auction. Henriksen's agent bid it in for a song.
Ole went to London; he made tests with this coffee, washed out the
colouring matter, flushed it thoroughly, and dried it again. Finally he
had the entire cargo roasted and packed in hermetically sealed zinc boxes.
These boxes were brought to Norway after a month of storing; they were
unloaded, taken to the warehouse, opened, and sold. The coffee was as good
as ever. The firm made a barrel of money out of this enterprise.
Tidemand said:
"I only learned the particulars a couple of days ago; I must confess that
I was proud of you!"
"My part of the business was simply the idea of roasting the coffee--
making it sweat out the damage, so to speak. But otherwise, really--"
"I suppose you were a little anxious until you knew the result?"
"Yes; I must admit I was a little anxious."
"But what did your father say?"
"Oh, he did not know anything until it was all over. I was afraid to tell
him; he might have disinherited me, cast me off, you know. Ha, ha!"
Tidemand looked at him.
"Hm. This is all very well, Ole. But if you want to give your father, the
firm, half the credit, then you should not at the same time tell me that
your father knew nothing until it was all over.
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