With rousing pageantry, the Emperor of the Trigans led the parade of his armed forces through the streets of the capital on the anniversary of the founding of the empire.

Long live the Emperor!

Thank you, my people.

No one in that vast multitude was more loyal than the slight figure in a green uniform.

This was Krusi. No soldier, he, but merely a street sweeper, for the Trigan City Council. The procession past, Krusi went back to work.

Not discontented with his humble lot, but sometimes rather wistful—that was Krusi.

If only I could have been somebody instead of a nobody!

And then . . .

A wallet—and well-filled, by the look of it.























More money than I’ve ever seen in one wad before.

And there’s a name and address on this card . . . ‘Simbal—Villa Lorca, Zora Heights, near Trigan City’.

Zora Heights was a district where the very richest Trigans lived. Without a moment’s hesitation, the young street sweeper walked to the Villa Lorca and knocked on the door.

Tell your master, Simbal, that I have his wallet. He must have dropped it during the Empire Day procession.

I am Simbal.

But it’s all here! What an honest young fellow you are!

Of course, sir. I work for the Trigan City Council. They don’t employ dishonest folk.

Simbal invited Krusi in for a rich meal.

I am not a Trigan, but a citizen of Cato. It was in Cato that I made my fortune. And now, having no family, I have decided to settle down and end my days somewhere in the beautiful Trigan countryside.

After the meal . . .

I like you, Krusi. You must stay with me for a few days. Why don’t you have a nap till supper time? Unless, like me you prefer a dip in the swimming pool.

I think I’d prefer a little nap.

Simbal plunged into the luxury pool.

That young fellow is so transparently honest that I can’t afford to let him go. He will be of tremendous help to me. I will employ him as my confidential secretary.

Some time later—uninvited visitors.

How did you ..?

How did we trace you here? You really didn’t think you were going to get away with it, did you?

We don’t want to hurt you, Simbal. Tell you what, just duck your head under water and keep it there while I count up to a thousand, real slow . . .

This instalment was originally published in Look and Learn issue no. 769 on 9 October 1976.