The hotel runners marched off in triumph with their victims, and express drivers and cab men drove off with their fares, and only a scattering few were left behind.
At one end of the platform stood two men in sheepskin coats and caps.
The stranger slowly moved toward them.

As he drew near, the men glanced at first carelessly, then more earnestly at him.

For a few moments he stood gazing down the street, then said, as if to himself, in the Russian tongue, "The wind blows from the north to-night." Instantly the men came to rigid attention.
"And the snow lies deep," replied one, raising his hand in salute.
"But spring will come, brother," replied the stranger.
One of the men came quickly toward him, took his hand and kissed it.
"Fool!" said the stranger, drawing away his hand, and sweeping his sharp glance round the platform.

"The bear that hunts in the open is himself soon hunted." "Ha, ha," laughed the other man loudly, "in this country there is no hunting, brother." "Fool!" said the stranger again in a low, stern voice.

"Where game is, there is always hunting." "How can we serve?
What does my brother wish ?" replied the man.
"I wish the house of Paulina Koval.