plan of attack against my new friend.

"No," he explained with sadness, "the Soviet does not furnish trousers.
They tell me they also go without trousers. And my trousers are
absolutely worn out. Look at them."

With these words he threw back the corner of his overcoat and I was
astonished how he could keep himself inside these trousers, for they
had such large holes that they were more of a net than trousers, a net
through which a small shark could have slipped.

"Sell me," he whispered, with a question in his voice.

"I cannot, for I need them myself," I answered decisively.

He reflected for a few minutes and afterward, approaching me, said: "Let
us go out doors and talk. Here it is inconvenient."

We went outside. "Now, what about it?" he began. "You are going into
Urianhai. There the Soviet bank-notes have no value and you will not
be able to buy anything, where there are plenty of sables, fox-skins,
ermine and gold dust to be purchased, which they very willingly exchange
for rifles and cartridges. You have each of you a rifle and I will
give you one more rifle with a hundred cartridges if you give me the
trousers."

"We do not need weapons. We are protected by our documents," I answered,
as though I did not understand.

"But no," he interrupted, "you can change that rifle there into furs and