id threateningly:

"You dare to touch me!"

"I wouldn't touch you. I'll just turn you over to the police! Whose son
are you?"

Foma did not expect this, and all his boldness and spitefulness suddenly
left him.

The trip to the police station seemed to him something which his father
would never forgive him. He shuddered and said confusedly:

"Gordyeeff."

"Ignat Gordyeeff's?"

"Yes."

Now the second captain was taken aback. He straightened himself,
expanded his chest and for some reason or other cleared his throat
impressively. Then his shoulders sank and he said to the boy in a
fatherly tone:

"It's a shame! The son of such a well-known and respected man! It is
unbecoming your position. You may go. But should this happen again! Hm!
I should be compelled to notify your father, to whom, by the way, I have
the honour of presenting my respects."

Foma watched the play of the old man's physiognomy and understood that
he was afraid of his father. Like a young wolf, he looked askance at
Chumakov; while the old man, with comical seriousness, twisted his
gray moustache, hesitating before the boy, who did not go away,
notwithstanding the given permission.

"You may go," repeated the old man, pointing at the road leading to his
house.

"And how about the police?" asked Foma, sternly, and was immediately
frightened at the possible answer.

"I was but jesting," smiled the old man. "I just wanted to frighten
you."

"You are afraid of my father yourself," said Foma, and, turning his back
to the old man, walked off into the depth of the garden.

"I am afraid? Ah! Very well!" exclaimed Chumakov after him, and Foma
knew by the sound of his voice that he had offended the old man. He felt
sad and ashamed; he passed the afternoon in walking, and, coming home,
he was met by his father's stern question:

"Foma! Did you go to Chumakov's garden?"

"Yes, I did," said the boy, calmly, looking into his father's eyes.

Evidently Ignat did not expect such an answer and he was silent for
awhile, stroking his beard.

"Fool! Why did you do it? Have you not enough of your own apples?"

Foma cast down his eyes and was silent, standing before his father.

"See, you are shamed! Yozhishka must have incited you to this! I'll
give it to him when he comes, or I'll make an end of your friendship
altogether."

"I did it myself," said Foma, firmly.

"From bad to worse!" exclaimed Ignat. "But why did you do it?"

"Because."

"Be