Rimsky shrugged his shoulders and sucked his tea from the bowl.
“The provodnik on the train told me that the soldiers killed the Governor here. What was the name? Kir—— well, I can’t remember.”
“Those fellows on the trains do a lot of talking,” said Rimsky. “They are know-it-alls, and all they do is take grease from people who want to have food sent up to us.”
“I’m afraid they don’t tell the truth,” said Peter.
“So they told you the soldiers killed Kirsakoff, did they? But Kirsakoff was not the Governor. You see that they lied.”
“Perhaps they did not say he was Governor when he was killed. But they said he had been a Governor in the old days.”
“If Kirsakoff had been killed, I would know it,” said Rimsky.
“True,” agreed Peter. “I thought the provodnik was talking to make wind and a big man of himself. I knew he was lying.”
“How did you know that?”
“I guessed it. Now that you say Kirsakoff was not killed, I know it was a lie. Just big talk.”