'Who put you up to this?'
'Leave off!' cried Jasiek; 'it was Josel.'
'And why did you do as he told you?'
'Because I owe him a hundred roubles.'
'Oh Lord!' groaned Gryb, tearing his hair.
'Well, that's nothing to tear your hair about,' said Grochowski. 'Come; three hundred and thirty roubles between Slimak, Josel, and me; what is that to you?'
'I won't pay it.'
'All right! In that case he will go to prison. Come along.' He took the youth by the arm.
'Dad, have pity, I am your only son!'
The old man looked helplessly at the peasants in turn.