“So Jacob wants to marry Gretchen, does he?” said the Herr Mayor.

Yes; that was what Jacob wanted.

“And is he a practical huntsman?” said the Herr Mayor.

Oh yes, he was that.

“So good,” said the Herr Mayor.  “Then tell Jacob that when he is such a clever huntsman as to be able to shoot the whiskers off from a running hare without touching the skin, then he can have Gretchen.”

[Illustration:  Jacob’s mother & the Herr Mayor]

Then Jacob’s mother went back home again.  “Now,” said she, “Jacob will, at least, be satisfied.”

“Yes,” said Jacob, when she had told him all that the Herr Mayor had said to her, “that is a hard thing to do; but what one man has done, another man can.”  So he shouldered his gun, and started away into the world to learn to be as clever a huntsman as the Herr Mayor had said.

He plodded on and on until at last he fell in with a tall stranger dressed all in red.

“Where are you going, Jacob?” said the tall stranger, calling him by his name, just as if he had eaten pottage out of the same dish with him.

“I am going,” said Jacob, “to learn to be so clever a huntsman that I can shoot the whiskers off from a running hare without touching the skin.”

“That is a hard thing to learn,” said the tall stranger.

Yes; Jacob knew that it was a hard thing; but what one man had done another man could do.

“What will you give me if I teach you to be as clever a huntsman as that?” said the tall stranger.

“What will you take to teach me?” said Jacob; for he saw that the stranger had a horse’s hoof instead of a foot, and he did not like his looks, I can tell you.

“Oh, it is nothing much that I want,” said the tall man; “only just sign your name to this paper—­that is all.”

But what was in the paper?  Yes; Jacob had to know what was in the paper before he would set so much as a finger to it.

Oh, there was nothing in the paper, only this:  that when the red one should come for Jacob at the end of ten years’ time, Jacob should promise to go along with him whithersoever he should take him.

At this Jacob hemmed and hawed and scratched his head, for he did not know about that.  “All the same,” said he, “I will sign the paper, but on one condition.”

[Illustration:  Jacob and The Red One]

At this the red one screwed up his face as though he had sour beer in his mouth, for he did not like the sound of the word “condition.”  “Well,” said he, “what is the condition?”

“It is only this,” said Jacob:  “that you shall be my servant for the ten years, and if, in all that time, I should chance to ask you a question that you cannot answer, then I am to be my own man again.”

Oh, if that was all, the red man was quite willing for that.

Then he took Jacob’s gun, and blew down into the barrel of it.  “Now,” said he, “you are as skillful a huntsman as you asked to be.”