Stepan was the head of the workmen’s gang. He was just stepping out of the cottage.
“Here I am!” he said, in a cheerful voice. “Oh, is that you, Peter Nikolaevich? Our men are coming.”
“Why is the stable door open?”
“Is it? I don’t know anything about it. I say, Proshka, bring the lantern!”
Proshka came with the lantern. They all went to the stable, and Stepan knew at once what had happened.
“Thieves have been here, Peter Nikolaevich,” he said. “The lock is broken.”
“No; you don’t say so!”
“Yes, the brigands! I don’t see ‘Mashka.’ ‘Hawk’ is here. But ‘Beauty’ is not. Nor yet ‘Dapple-grey.’ ”
Three horses had been stolen!
Peter Nikolaevich did not utter a word at first. He only frowned and took deep breaths.
“Oh,” he said after a while. “If only I could lay hands on them! Who was on guard?”
“Peter. He evidently fell asleep.”
Peter Nikolaevich called in the police, and making an appeal to all the authorities, sent his men to track the thieves. But the horses were not to be found.
“Wicked people,” said Peter Nikolaevich. “How could they! I was always so kind to them. Now, wait! Brigands! Brigands the whole lot of them. I