“Well, try and see if you can find the papers of the strike committee.”
“I have no such papers,” replied Doctor Svetilovitch.
“S-so! Now,” said the Colonel very significantly, “tell us frankly where you keep the weapons concealed.”
“What weapons?” asked Doctor Svetilovitch in astonishment.
The Colonel replied with an ironic smile:
“Any sort that you may have about—revolvers, bombs, or machine-guns.”
“I haven’t any kind of weapons,” said Doctor Svetilovitch with an amused laugh. “I haven’t even a gun for hunting. What kind of weapon can I possibly have?”
“We’ll have a look!” said the Colonel in a meaningful voice.
They turned the whole house upside down. Of course they found no weapons of any kind.
While all this was going on Trirodov was reading in the dining-room his own verses and some which were not his. The constables listened in a dull way. They did not understand anything, but waited patiently to see if any rebellious words were mentioned, but their waiting remained unrewarded.