er."

The station-master rapidly looks through some forms, then turns his
beaming blue eyes upon Malahin, and, his face radiant with smiles and
freshness, showers questions on him:

"You are Mr. Malahin? You have the cattle? Eight vanloads? What is to be
done now? You are late and I let number fourteen go in the night. What
are we to do now?"

The young man discreetly takes hold of the fur of Malahin's coat with
two pink fingers and, shifting from one foot to the other, explains
affably and convincingly that such and such numbers have gone already,
and that such and such are going, and that he is ready to do for Malahin
everything in his power. And from his face it is evident that he is
ready to do anything to please not only Malahin, but the whole world--he
is so happy, so pleased, and so delighted! The old man listens, and
though he can make absolutely nothing of the intricate system of
numbering the trains, he nods his head approvingly, and he, too, puts
two fingers on the soft wool of the rough coat. He enjoys seeing and
hearing the polite and genial young man. To show goodwill on his side
also, he takes out a ten-rouble note and, after a moment's thought, adds
a couple of rouble notes to it, and gives them to the station-master.
The latter takes them, puts his finger to his cap, and gracefully
thrusts them into his pocket.

"Well, gentlemen, can't we arrange it like this?" he says, kindled by a
new idea that has flashed on him. "The troop train is late,... as you
see, it is not here,... so why shouldn't you go as the troop train?**
And I will let the troop train go as twenty-eight. Eh?"

"If you like," agrees the guard.

"Excellent!" the station-master says, delighted. "In that case there is
no need for you to wait here; you can set off at once. I'll dispatch you
immediately. Excellent!"

He salutes Malahin and runs off to his room, reading forms as he goes.
The old man is very much pleased by the conversation that has just
taken place; he smiles and looks about the room as though looking for
something else agreeable.

"We'll have a drink, though," he says, taking the guard's arm.

"It seems a little early for drinking."

"No, you must let me treat you to a glass in a friendly way."

They both go to the refreshment bar. After having a drink the guard
spends a long time selecting something to eat.

He is a very stout, elderly man, with a puffy and discolored face. His
fatness is unpleasant, flabby-loo