The track-master who rode with him on the draisine replied: “Vasili Spiridov.” “Spiridov, Spiridov.--Oh, the one you reported?” “The very same.” “Very well, let us have a look at Vasili Spiridov. Go ahead.” The workmen leaned upon the handles and the draisine flew farther. “There will be a fight between them and the neighbor,” thought Semen, looking after the disappearing draisine. About two hours later Semen went on his rounds. He saw that some one was coming toward him, walking over the railroad bed, and there was something white visible on his head. Semen strained his eyes to see who it was--Vasili; in his hand he carried a stick and a small bundle was slung across his shoulders, and one cheek was tied up with a white kerchief. “Where are you going, neighbor?” Semen shouted to him. When Vasili approached him closer, Semen saw that he was as pale as chalk and wild-eyed; and when he started to speak his voice broke. “I am off to the city,” he said, “to Moscow--to the main office of the administration.” “To the administration--Is that it! You are going to make a complaint, are you? Better not, Vasili Stepanich, forget it--” “No, brother, I will not forget it. It is too late to forget. You see, he struck me in the face, beat me till the blood flowed. As long as I live, I will not forget it, nor let it go at this.” “Give it up, Stepanich,” Semen spoke to him, taking hold of his hand. “I speak truth: you will not make things better.” “Who speaks of better! I know myself that I will not make them better; you spoke truly about fate--you did. I shall not do much good to myself, but one has to stand up for justice.” “But won’t you tell me how it all came about?” “How it all came about--Well, he inspected everything, left the draisine on purpose to do so--even looked inside the watch-house. I knew beforehand that he would be strict--so I had everything in first-class order. He was already going to leave when I came forward with my complaint. He immediately burst forth: ‘Here,’ he said, ‘is to be a government inspection, you--so and so--and you dare come forward with your complaints about your vegetable garden! We are expecting privy councilors and he comes with his cabbages!’ I could not control myself and said a word--not so very bad either, but it seemed to offend him and he struck me--And I stood there, as if it was the most usual thing in the world to happen. Only, when they went off, I came to my senses, washed off the blood from my face and went away.” “And what about the watch-house?” “My wife is there, she will take care; and besides, the devil take their road, anyway!” “Good-by, Ivanich,” he said to Semen on taking leave of him; “I don’t know if I shall find justice for myself.” “You don’t mean to tell me that you will go on foot?” “I shall ask them at the station to let me ride in a freighter; to-morrow I shall be in Moscow.”