Slimak shrugged his shoulders, not knowing what to make of it.
He began to question Maciek: Had anything happened in his absence?
Slowly and with difficulty, but concealing nothing, Maciek told his story.
'Of course they gave me some filthy stuff, and then they made off with the horses,' he added, sobbing.
But instead of taking pity on him, Slimak burst out afresh:
'What? you took drink from strangers and never told me anything about it?'
'Why should I have bothered you, gospodarz, when you were a little bit screwed yourself?'
'What's that to do with you?' bawled Slimak, 'dogs have no right to notice whether one is drunk or not, they have to be all the more watchful when one is! You are a thief like the others, only you are worse. I took you in when you were starving, and you've robbed me in return.'
'Don't talk like that,' groaned Maciek, crawling to Slimak's feet, 'I have saved a few roubles from my wages, and there is my little chest and a bit of sheepskin and my sukmana; take it all, but don't say I robbed you. Your dog has not been more faithful, and they have poisoned him too.'
'Don't bother me,' cried Slimak, thrusting him aside, 'the fellow offers me his wages and his box when the horses were worth twenty-eight roubles.