through a little, looked
in between the heads: on the floor, sideways, somehow unnaturally drawn
up, was lying Roly-Poly. His face was blue, almost black. He did not
move, and was lying strangely small, shrunken, with legs bent. One arm
was squeezed in under his breast, while the other was flung back.

"What's the matter with him?" asked Gladishev in a fright.

Niurka answered him, starting to speak in a rapid, jerky whisper:

"Roly-Poly just came here...Gave Manka the candy, and then started in
to put Armenian riddles to us...'Of a blue colour, hangs in the parlor
and whistles'...We couldn't guess nohow, but he says: 'A
herring'...Suddenly he started laughing, had a coughing spell, and
began falling sideways; and then--bang on the ground and don't
move...They sent for the police...Lord, there's doings for you! ... I'm
horribly afraid of corpseses!"

"Wait!" Gladishev stopped her. "It's necessary to feel his forehead; he
may be alive yet..."

He did try to thrust himself forward, but Simeon's fingers, just like
iron pincers, seized him above the elbows and dragged him back.

"There's nothing, there's nothing to be inspecting," sternly ordered
Simeon, "go on, now, young gents, out of here! This is no place for
you: the police will come, will summon you as witnesses--then it's
scat! to the devil's dam! for you out of the military high school!
Better go while you're good and healthy!"

He escorted them to the entrance hall, shoved the great-coats into
their hands and added still more sternly:

"Well, now--go at a run...Lively! So's there won't be even a whiff of
you left. And if you come another time, then I won't let youse in at
all. You are wise guys, you are! You gave the old hound money for
whiskey--so now he's gone and croaked."

"Well, don't you get too smart, now!" Gladishev flew at him, all
ruffled up.

"What d'you mean, don't get smart? ..." Simeon suddenly began to yell
infuriatedly, and his black eyes without lashes and brows became so
terrible that the cadets shrank back. "I'll soak you one on the snout
so hard you'll forget how to say papa and mamma! Git, this second! Or
else I'll bust you in the neck!"

The boys went down the steps.

At this time two men were going up, in cloth caps on the sides of their
heads; one in a blue, the other in a red blouse, with the skirts
outside, under the unbuttoned, wide open jackets--evidently, Simeon's
comrades in the profession.

"What?" one of them called