He could barely believe his eyes when he stumbled upon that small pouch filled with money. He looked around, there was no one in the godown, his master was upstairs, having siesta.
He stuffed it neatly under his tee shirt and left for the bazaar.
He returned late in the evening.
“You will have to sleep in the godown tonight, the guard did not come!”
He was fast asleep when he heard the voice, “Where is that pouch! I left it right here last night.”
How could anyone enter the godown? He has locked the door from inside, the only entrance, the windows were heavily grilled.
He opened his eyes just a wee bit.
An elderly man was hunting high and low for his money pouch, he has seen that man before, in a painting in his master’s bedroom, with a garland hanging from the painting- his dead father.