"There's your answer. How can I help with this Hell going on day and night?" he exclaimed irritably.
"Give me two horses and a peasant's cart."
"There are none."
"Then a pass for a train ... room on the roof will do."
His face softened now. He thought he was to get rid of this importunate civilian.
"A capital idea. But I can't give you the pass. It's not my job. The officer who can is over there."
He pointed towards the station. "Go to him. Say I sent you. Nicolai Petrovich Ketov is my name. Good luck!" and he hurried into the tent.
On his way to the station Ian met Ostap.
"The devil take this hole!" he cried by way of greeting. "Not a horse to be found. Nor a cart. Nothing but bad temper and confusion." Then, when he heard the other's experience:
"Ketov. Don't know the name ... a Little Russian, I expect. But you can see all these officers are too busy to bother with us. I'll try humbler folk. Never mind. Do you go bury your priest. Meanwhile, give me your card, if you have one about you and write down the number of your followers and your quest upon it. Have you any money? That is always useful."