“What I propose is this,” said Mr. Porter: “I will turn over two hundred dollars to you, Sidney, and one hundred dollars to Raymond. I will keep a couple of hundred myself and will place two hundred dollars in the trunk. I think I had better divide my express checks with you, Sidney, too, and I will place a portion of those in the trunk.” “Now that’s fixed up, let’s hurry out,” urged Raymond. “I want to see that view before dark.” Mr. Porter insisted on dividing the money and checks first, but when that was done they went out to the Alexander Gardens, near by. While there are high bluffs along the right banks of the Volga and the Oka, on the opposite side extend level plains. From the Gardens the travelers saw at their feet the two broad rivers, and on the peninsula formed by the junction of the two streams was situated the great temporary city of the Fair, connected with Nizhni-Novgorod by a bridge of pontoons, transitory, like the community it served. Beyond the Volga stretched plains, farther than the eye could reach toward the Urals, hundreds of miles of cultivated fields and meadows. “Gee!” exclaimed Raymond, “that looks like Russia, all right, without any limit.” “It is evident that one must travel in Russia,” said his father, “to comprehend the size of the country.” “Those plains look broader, somehow, than our own Western prairies,” said Sidney, “but I guess it’s because we know they are bigger, for often we can’t see across ours.” Near them stood a gentleman who was also regarding the view. He must have understood what had been said in English, though he turned to Mr. Porter and spoke in German. “We Russians are used to vast expanses of country, and a view like this has a great charm for me. I have often wished that I might see the American plains; they must be wonderful.” “The American plains, no less than the American mountains, are wonderful,” replied Mr. Porter in German. “But then, America is a wonderful country.” “And the Americans are a wonderful people,” said the stranger. “They have accomplished marvels in an incredibly short time. Are many of them linguists like yourself?” “I can hardly be called a linguist,” replied Mr. Porter. “I speak only German besides English. My mother was German.” “Ah, your mother was German?” “Yes,” said Mr. Porter, surprised at the rather significant tone of the stranger’s voice. A policeman who stood a short distance away, approached in response to an almost imperceptible signal from the gentleman and placed himself at Mr. Porter’s side. “Will you have the kindness to come with me?” said the gentleman; “there is some business that I wish to transact with you.” “But, my dear sir,” said Mr. Porter, “why should I go with you, who are a stranger to me? I must beg you to excuse me.” “I am sorry that I cannot accept an excuse,” said the other, very courteously; “it is absolutely necessary that you should go with me.”