Rock Island Argus. (Rock Island, Ill.) 1893-1920, 1901-05-28
TheDaI|y Short Story
The Robber Of the steppes.

~ was Ou u uull, gloomy evening III
the early autumn OF 1890 that 1 drove
into the little village of Kalinska, in
western Siberia.
The postmaster has n favor to beg
OF the BARN. a distinguished person
cge is anxious to accompany me as
far as the next station. sharing. OF
course, the posting expenses. The Jew
Is entering into further particulars
when a tall figure energies from the
darkness of the doorway and laughing
ly pushes him aside.
you need not vouch for my respect
ability. Stepan," says the stranger. 81
throw myself. monsieur. upon your
generosity, not to say mercy"
The newcomer was middle aged.
clean shaved and dressed in the long
black robes of n priest of the Greek
church. 1t was not n pleasant face
There was something about the man
that inspired me with the sudden aver
sion that experience has taught me to
respect. The keen disappointment
evinced by my friend when 1 announc-
ed my intention of sleeping at KAHN
ska might have been due to his anxi-
ETY. to reach home. But thought diff
ferently.
When 1 awoke, the sun was shining
brightly in n cloudless sky, and a
frosty rhine sparkled on the trees and
buildings. 1t was past 10 o'clock, and
my "tarantass" was awaiting me, it's
sturdy little team fidgeting with impa-
thence TO be off for the gallop in the
crisp, bracing air. The morning was
cold, and Father Dimitri was still snor-
ing peacefully under n mountain OF
furs. Wishing to make amends to the
unconscious cause of my delay. arous-
cd my companion and told him that a
seat in my carriage awaited him; but,
to my surprise, the offer was politely
refused.
MANY thanks, monsieur" said the
priest. yawning sleepIly and rising TO
his feet. You are too kind, but 1 will
not now trouble you. Stepan tells me
that my friend Larinsky, the corn mer-
chant of Atchinsk, will be passing
through this afternoon. and he will,
know, take me on to Ishimskaya."
\ month later 1 was at Moscow en-
jOying 4 few days rest after six
months of almost incessant travel, and
it was one day at dejeuner at The Her
mitage while lazily skimming the
pages of the Novoe Vremya that the
now familiar name of Dimitri caught
my eye, and simultaneously that of
Larinsky carried me back in n flash of
memory to the night In the lonely post
house at Kalinska. The paragraph
was headed Another Tragedy on the
Siberian Post Road and ran thus:
The country between Tomsk and
Atchinsk is so infested with runaway
convicts that travelling in this region
on dark nights has become extremely
dangerous. Another outrage is now
reported. the victim being Serge La
rinsky, the mayor OF Atchinsk, who on
the 10th ult. was travelling TO Tomsk
with a large sum OF money. He was
Joined at kalinska by n friend, Father
Dimitri Iyanovitch, the priest of Ish-
imskaya, who, with the yemstchik, for
tunately escaped and brought the sad
news to Tomsk. The mayor was kill
ed by repeated blows from n bludgeon,
his features being battered almost be-
yond recognition. The unfortunate
gentleman was carried into the forest,
where his body was discovered two
days later"
passed the fatal spot poor Larinsky
had been brutality put to death. and 1
perhaps selhshly, at the
thought that the murdered mans fate
might have been my own.
-Four years elapsed. In the spring OF
1894 received a special permit to visit
the prisons on the island of Sakhalin. in
the north Pacific ocean. The governor
received me graciously, and we pro-
ceeded at once TO the jail, huge build |
ing closely surrounded by sentries and
Of more forbidding exterior than most |
prisons. As we enter the gate |
the incessant clang of letters, caused |
by the aimless wandering to and fro of |
4 number OF haggard looking wretches. |
greeted us. A procession of grny clad
corpses would appear less CHASTITY than |
these pale, miserable beings, trailing /
heavy irons in the dust and occasional |
" stealing a cowed glance at the jailor. /
armed to the teeth, in their midst. The /
sight is degrading and ] gladly leave 1t
10 enter a public cell. where there is, at /
my rate, a semblauce of useful activ i
ty. II is a tailor's shop. A group of /
,onvicts spring to attention as we en-
ter, and one who seems TO act as fore
nan is ordered to stand forward with a
specimen of the work. A tall, ungainly |
fellow, with partly shaven skull. obeys
he summons and, with a crash of
,hains, slouches heavily across the
ward. Nearing us. he raises his eyes
ind meets mine with start of recog-
lition, while i with difficulty restrain
In exclamation of amazement. The
lowing locks are gone and priestly gar
nents replaced by the hideous garb OF
! Russian convict. but the cunning.
estless eyes are unmistakable. could
wear 10 them among a thousand. 1t
S Father Dimitri of Ishimskaya.
Zone OF the most dangerous black
guards we have" said the governor as
We leave the room. "and the cleverest
nave on Sakhalin."-St. Louis Repub-