"Here is a Russia which the plough has never touched," said Malinkoff.
"Does it not seem to you amazing that the Americans and British who go
forth to seek new colonies, should lure our simple people to foreign
countries, where the mode of living, the atmosphere, is altogether
different from this, when here at their doors is a new land undiscovered
and unexploited?"

He broke off his homily to look out of the window of the car. He had
done that at least a dozen times in the past half-hour.

"We're going fairly fast," said Malcolm. "You do not think anything will
overtake us?"

"On the road--no," said Malinkoff, "but I am rather nervous crossing
this plain, where there is practically no cover at all, and the car is
raising clouds of dust."

"Nervous of what?"

"Aeroplanes," said Malinkoff. "Look, there is a pleasant little wood. I
suggest that we get under cover until night falls. The next village is
Truboisk, which is a large market centre and is certain to hold local
officers of the Moscow Soviet."

Both his apprehensions and his judgment were justified, for scarcely
had the car crept into the cover of green boughs, than a big aeroplane
was sighted. It was following the road and at hardly a hundred feet
above them. It passed with a roar. They watched it until it was a speck
in the sky.

"They are taking a lot of trouble for a very little thing. Russia must
be law-abiding if they turn their aeroplanes loose on a party of
fugitive criminals!"

"Boolba has told his story," said Malinkoff significantly. "By this time
you are not only enemies of the Revolution, but you are accredited
agents of capitalistic Governments. You have been sent here by your
President to stir up the bourgeois to cast down the Government, because
of British investments. Mr. Bim will be described as a secret service
agent who has been employed to assassinate either Trotsky or Lenin. If
you could only tap the official wireless," said Malinkoff, "you would
learn that a serious counter-revolutionary plot has been discovered, and
that American financiers are deeply involved. Unless, of course,"
corrected Malinkoff, "America happens to be in favour in Petrograd, in
which case it will be English financiers."

Malcolm laughed.

"Then we are an international incident?" he said.

"You are an 'international incident,'" agreed Malinkoff gravely.

Cherry Bim, sitting on the step, smoking a long cigar, a box of which
Petroff had given him as a p