they rushed in all directions to hunt for the robbers. The horses,
meanwhile, were hidden in a ravine in the forest lands belonging to the
state.

Ivan Mironov intended to leave them there till the following night, and
then to transport them with the utmost haste a hundred miles away to
a man he knew. He visited Gerassim in the forest, to see how he was
getting on, brought him a pie and some vodka, and was returning home
by a side track in the forest where he hoped to meet nobody. But by
ill-luck, he chanced on the keeper of the forest, a retired soldier.

"I say! Have you been looking for mushrooms?" asked the soldier.

"There were none to be found," answered Ivan Mironov, showing the basket
of lime bark he had taken with him in case he might want it.

"Yes, mushrooms are scarce this summer," said the soldier. He stood
still for a moment, pondered, and then went his way. He clearly saw that
something was wrong. Ivan Mironov had no business whatever to take early
morning walks in that forest. The soldier went back after a while and
looked round. Suddenly he heard the snorting of horses in the ravine. He
made his way cautiously to the place whence the sounds came. The grass
in the ravine was trodden down, and the marks of horses' hoofs were
clearly to be seen. A little further he saw Gerassim, who was sitting
and eating his meal, and the horses tied to a tree.

The soldier ran to the village and brought back the bailiff, a police
officer, and two witnesses. They surrounded on three sides the spot
where Gerassim was sitting and seized the man. He did not deny anything;
but, being drunk, told them at once how Ivan Mironov had given him