Prisoners we literally were, despite the goodwill of the police-master that we had been at such pains to win. The soldier who had first intruded upon us was left to guard us while the police-master retired to write his report to his superior, to whom we were to be delivered in the next village, eighteen versts away. We were not permitted to leave the room, but several men about the station joined us and freely sympathized with us. One took occasion to warn us that we would surely be thoroughly searched at some near period, and if we had any compromising letters or papers about us we had better get rid of them. It so happened that I had in my portfolio a letter from a friend in New York in which was described a scheme which had been launched in America in aid of “Free Russia.” This scheme included the issuance of a series of facsimile greenbacks stamped “The United States of Russia.” I knew well enough that that letter would unquestionably incriminate us under the present circumstances. By stealth I succeeded in extracting the letter from its place and tearing it into small pieces, but how to get rid of it was a puzzle. I carried the torn pieces in the palm of my hand for a long time. Nor did I see a chance to drop them until the wagon was being made ready which was to carry us on our way. While the police-master and the soldier were talking together, I succeeded in dropping the little ball of torn paper unnoticed into a hole in the ground. Then, as I turned round, I tripped over a peat brick, which fell over the hole. A discussion arose as to the number of horses we should have. The government furnished only one, the police-master told us, but we might have two more by paying for them ourselves. The idea of paying to be carried to prison did not appeal to either of us, so it was finally decided to give us two, inasmuch as there would be four men in the wagon, including our guard and the driver. The wagon was a kind of basket on trucks. There were no seats. An armful of straw was placed in the bottom and on this we sat. There was a simple seat for the driver, and the _strajnik_ who was to accompany us shared the driver’s seat, only his back was to the horses and his feet in the wagon, his legs so spread apart that mine stretched between his. His rifle lay across his knees and his saber rested against his side. “Fiercesome prisoners you have,” I ventured. “Every man who has two legs and uses them is liable to arrest these days,” he replied. By the time Liski was reached we were on fairly friendly terms with our guard.