ry
great pleasure."

"It WAS good of you to get out," Bobbie said, perspiring and polite.

He took her arm and drew her into the waiting room where she and the
others had played the advertisement game the day they found the Russian.
Phyllis and Peter followed. "Well?" said the old gentleman, giving
Bobbie's arm a kind little shake before he let it go. "Well? What is
it?"

"Oh, please!" said Bobbie.

"Yes?" said the old gentleman.

"What I mean to say--" said Bobbie.

"Well?" said the old gentleman.

"It's all very nice and kind," said she.

"But?" he said.

"I wish I might say something," she said.

"Say it," said he.

"Well, then," said Bobbie--and out came the story of the Russian who
had written the beautiful book about poor people, and had been sent to
prison and to Siberia for just that.

"And what we want more than anything in the world is to find his wife
and children for him," said Bobbie, "but we don't know how. But you must
be most horribly clever, or you wouldn't be a Direction of the Railway.
And if YOU knew how--and would? We'd rather have that than anything else
in the world. We'd go without the watches, even, if you could sell them
and find his wife with the money."

And the others said so, too, though not with so much enthusiasm.

"Hum," said the old gentleman, pulling down the white waistcoat that
had the big gilt buttons on it, "what did you say the name
was--Fryingpansky?"

"No, no," said Bobbie earnestly. "I'll write it down for you. It doesn't
really look at all like that except when you say it. Have you a bit of
pencil and the back of an envelope?" she asked.

The old gentleman got out a gold pencil-case and a beautiful,
sweet-smelling, green Russian leather note-book and opened it at a new
page.

"Here," he said, "write here."

She wrote down "Szezcpansky," and said:--

"That's how you write it. You CALL it Shepansky."

The old gentleman took out a pair of gold-rimmed spectacles and fitted
them on his nose. When he had read the name, he looked quite different.

"THAT man? Bless my soul!" he said. "Why, I've read his book! It's
translated into every European language. A fine book--a noble book. And
so your mother took him in--like the good Samaritan. Well, well. I'll
tell you what, youngsters--your mother must be a very good woman."

"Of course she is," said Phyllis, in astonishment.

"And you're a very good man," said Bobbie, very shy, but firmly resolved
to be poli