"Well, yes." "But I don't live with a girl. I live with an old man." Yakov guffawed. "How funny you are! The devil knows how you speak. Well, we don't want an old man, of course. I live with two comrades. It's not convenient for anyone to call on me either. Come, let's agree on a place where we can meet." They decided on a meeting-place, and left the café. Yakov on taking leave gave his cousin an affectionate and vigorous handshake, and Yevsey left him in precipitate haste as if he feared his cousin would return to take it back. On his way he reflected dismally: "I cannot go on the side of the city where the railway station is, because I'll meet Zimin there, and they'll beat me. Here, the toughest place, the place they call a hot-bed of revolutionists, Yakov will be in my way. I can't do a thing. I can't turn anywhere." A feeling of spiteful irritation glided over his soul like a grey shadow. "I sell old clothes," sang Grokhotov behind his back, then whispered, "Buy a shirt from me, Klimkov." Yevsey turned around, took some rag in his hand, and examined it silently, while the spy praising the wares aloud, managed to get in a whisper, "See here, you just hit it. That curly-headed fellow, I had my eyes on him. He's a Socialist. Hold on to him. You can hook a great many with him. He's a young fellow, a simple sort of fellow, do you hear?" He tore the rag from Yevsey's hand, and shouted in an offended tone, "Five kopeks for such a garment as this? You're making sport of me, friend. Why should you insult me? Go your way, go." And shouting his wares, Grokhotov strode down the street. "There, I myself am going to be under surveillance," thought Yevsey, looking at Grokhotov's back. When a spy with little experience became acquainted with a workingman, he was obliged to report the fact immediately to the spy above him. The latter either gave him as an assistant a spy with more experience, or he himself went among the workingmen; upon which the other spies would say of him enviously: "He 'noosed' himself into the provocatorship." The role of provocator was considered dangerous, so by way of compensation the officers at once gave money rewards for the handing over of a group of people. All the spies not only gladly "noosed" themselves, but sometimes also even tripped one another up in the endeavor to snatch away the lucky chance. In this way the entire business was not infrequently spoiled. More than once it happened that a spy had already gotten inside a circle of workingmen, when suddenly in some secret manner they learned of his profession; whereupon they would beat him if he had not succeeded in time in slipping away from the circle. This was called "snapping the noose."