But yet Semyonich took the outstretched hand.

“You tell me this,” Chelkash went on, his gripping fingers still keeping their hold of Semyonich’s hand, and shaking it with friendly familiarity, “have you seen Mishka?”

“Mishka, indeed, who’s Mishka? I don’t know any Mishka. Get along, mate! or the inspector’ll see you, he’ll—”

“The red-haired fellow that I worked with last time on the ‘Kostroma’?” Chelkash persisted.

“That you steal with, you’d better say. He’s been taken to the hospital, your Mishka; his foot was crushed by an iron bar. Go away, mate, while you’re asked to civilly, go away, or I’ll chuck you out by the scruff of your neck.”

“A-ha, that’s like you! And you say—you don’t know Mishka! But you do. I say, why are you so cross, Semyonich?”

“I tell you, Grishka, don’t give me any of your jaw. Go-o!”

The guard began to get angry and, looking from side to side, tried to pull his hand away from Chelkash’s firm grip. Chelkash looked calmly at him from under his thick eyebrows, and not letting go of his hand, went on talking.

“Don’t hurry me. I’ll just have my chat out with you, and then I’ll go. Come, tell us how you’re getting on; wife and children quite well?” And with a spiteful gleam in his eyes, he added, showing his teeth in a mocking grin: “I’ve been meaning to pay you a call for ever so long, but I’ve not had the time, I’m always drinking, you see.”

“Now—now then—you drop that! You—none of your jokes, you bony devil. I’m in earnest, my man. So you mean you’ve come down to stealing in the houses and on the streets?”

“What for? Why, there’s goods enough here to last our time—for you and me. By God, there’s enough, Semyonich! So you’ve been filching two cases of goods, eh? Mind, Semyonich, you’d better look out! You’ll get caught one day!”

The enraged Semyonich trembled and struggled, spluttering and trying to say something. Chelkash let go of his hand, and with complete composure strode back to the dock gates. The customs-house guard followed him, swearing furiously. Chelkash grew more cheerful; he whistled shrilly through his teeth, and thrusting his hands in his breeches pockets, walked with the deliberate gait of a man of leisure, firing off to right and to left biting jeers and jests. He was paid back in the same coin.

“I say, Grishka, what good care the authorities do take of you!” shouted one out of a group of dockers, who had finished dinner and were lying on the ground, resting.

“I’m barefoot, so here’s Semyonich watching that I shouldn’t graze my foot on anything,” answered Chelkash. They reached the gates. Two soldiers felt Chelkash all over, and gave him a slight shove into the street.

Chelkash crossed the road and sat down on a stone post opposite the door of the inn. From the dock gates rolled rumbling an endless string of laden carts. To meet them, rattled empty carts, with their drivers jolting up and down in them. The dock vomited howling din and biting dust.

Chelkash, accustomed to this frenzied uproar, felt in excellent spirits. Before him lay the attractive prospect of a substantial haul, which would call for little exertion and a great deal of dexterity; Chelkash was confident that he had plenty of the latter, and, half-closing his eyes, dreamed of how he would go on a spree tomorrow morning when the business would be over and the notes would be rustling in his pocket. Then he thought of his comrade, Mishka, who would have been very useful that night, if he had not hurt his foot; Chelkash