e is
no hunting, brother."

"Fool!" said the stranger again in a low, stern voice. "Where game
is, there is always hunting."

"How can we serve? What does my brother wish?" replied the man.

"I wish the house of Paulina Koval. Do you know where it is?"

"Yes, we know, but--" the men hesitated, looking at each other.

"There is no place for our brother in Paulina Koval's house," said
the one who had spoken first. "Paulina has no room. Her house is
full with her children and with many boarders."

"Indeed," said the stranger, "and how many?"

"Well," replied the other, counting upon his fingers,
"there is Paulina and her three children, and--"

"Two children," corrected the stranger sharply.

"No, three children. Yes, three." He paused in his enumeration as
if struck by a belated thought. "It is three children, Joseph?"
he proceeded, turning to his friend.

Joseph confirmed his memory. "Yes, Simon, three;
the girl, the boy and the baby."

The stranger was clearly perplexed and disturbed.

"Go on," he said curtly.

"There is Paulina and the three children, and Rosenblatt, and--"

"Rosenblatt!" The word shot from the stranger's lips with the
vehemence of a bullet from a rifle. "Rosenblatt in her house!
S-s-s-o-o-o!" He thrust his face forward into the speaker's with a
long hissing sound, so fiercely venomous that the man fell back a
pace. Quickly the stranger recovered himself. "Look you, brothers,
I need a room for a few days, anywhere, a small room, and I can
pay well."

"My house," said the man named Joseph, "is yours,
but there are six men with me."

Quickly the other took it up. "My poor house is small,
two children, but if the Elder brother would accept?"

"I will accept, my friend," said the stranger. "You shall lose
nothing by it." He took up the bag that he had placed beside
him on the platform, saying briefly, "Lead the way."

"Your pardon, brother," said Simon, taking the bag from him,
"this is the way."

Northward across the railway tracks and up the street for two
blocks, then westward they turned, toward the open prairie.
After walking some minutes, Simon pointed to a huddling group
of shacks startlingly black against the dazzling snow.

"There," he cried with a laugh, "there is little Russia."

"Not Russia," said Joseph, "Galicia."

The stranger stood still, gazing at the little shacks, and letting
his eye wander across the dazzling plain, tinted now with crimson
and with gold fr