"Why a half? Why not all?"

"We are badly in need of money now."

"And haven't you any? But I also need it."

"Wait a little."

"Eh, my lad, I will not wait! You are not your father. Youngsters like
you, milksops, are an unreliable lot. In a month you may break up the
whole business. And I would be the loser for it. You give me all the
money tomorrow, or I'll protest the notes. It wouldn't take me long to
do it!"

Foma looked at Shchurov, with astonishment. It was not at all that same
old man, who but a moment ago spoke so sagaciously about the devil. Then
his face and his eyes seemed different, and now he looked fierce, his
lips smiled pitilessly, and the veins on his cheeks, near his nostrils,
were eagerly trembling. Foma saw that if he did not pay him at once,
Shchurov would indeed not spare him and would dishonour the firm by
protesting the notes.

"Evidently business is poor?" grinned Shchurov. "Well, tell the
truth--where have you squandered your father's money?"

Foma wanted to test the old man:

"Business is none too brisk," said he, with a frown. "We have no
contracts. We have received no earnest money, and so it is rather hard."

"So-o! Shall I help you out?"

"Be so kind. Postpone the day of payment," begged Foma, modestly
lowering his eyes.

"Mm. Shall I assist you out of my friendship for your father? Well, be
it so, I'll do it."

"And for how long will you postpone it?" inquired Foma.

"For six months."

"I thank you humbly."

"Don't mention it. You owe me eleven thousand six hundred roubles. Now
listen: rewrite the notes for the amount of fifteen thousand, pay me the
interest on this sum in advance. And as security I'll take a mortgage on
your two barges."

Foma rose from the chair and said, with a smile:

"Send me the notes tomorrow. I'll pay you in full."

Shchurov also rose from his chair and, without lowering his eyes at
Foma's sarcastic look, said, calmly scratching his chest:

"That's all right."

"Thank you for your kindness."

"That's nothing! You don't give me a chance, or I would have shown you
my kindness!" said the old man lazily, showing his teeth.

"Yes! If one should fall into your hands--"

"He'd find it warm--"

"I am sure you'd make it warm for him."

"Well, my lad, that will do!" said Shchurov, sternly. "Though you
consider yourself quite clever, it is rather too soon. You've gained
nothing, and already you began to boast! But you just win from me--th