"She was standing on her seat and yelling
'Bravo, bravo!'" said George.
"Then—" George faltered, "then a boy came up to her and they disappeared."
"What boy?" Olga asked anxiously. "George, you're older than me. Tell me what I am to do with her.
Look, I found this note this morning."
George frowned thoughtfully as he read the note. "
'Don't be afraid' means 'don't do as you're told'," Olga said.
"Oh, if I could only lay my hands on that boy I'd give him a piece of my mind!"
Olga tucked the note away.
They were silent for several moments.
But the music was so gay and everybody about them so merry that they soon linked hands again and resumed their stroll.
Suddenly, at a crossing, they bumped into another couple walking along hand in hand in an equally friendly fashion.
It was Timur and Jenny.
Both couples were so taken aback that they greeted each other politely without stopping.
"That's him!" said Olga, clutching desperately at George's sleeve. "That's the boy,"
"Yes," said George, abashed. "And the worst part of it is that it is Timur, my own daredevil of a nephew."
"And you—you knew!" Olga bristled. "And never said a word to me!"
Shaking off his hand she ran down the walk.
But neither Timur nor Jenny was in sight.
She turned down a crooked little path and came upon Timur who was standing facing Figure and Kvakin.
"Look here," she said, walking right up to him. "It's not enough that you sneak into gardens and break trees, even old women's and the little orphaned girl's. It's not enough that even the dogs run away from you. You're leading my sister astray and turning her against me into the bargain.
You may wear a Pioneer tie, but you're nothing but a scoundrel!"
Timur turned pale.
"That's not true," he said. "You don't know anything."
Olga made an impatient gesture and ran off to find Jenny.
Timur stood there and said nothing.
Figure and Kvakin could make nothing of it and they, too, were silent.
"Well, Commissar?" said Kvakin. "I see you have your nasty moments too."
"Yes, Chief," replied Timur, slowly raising his eyes. "I don't feel very happy right now.
I'd rather you had caught me and beaten the life out of me than have had to listen to that on your account."
"Why'd you keep quiet?" Kvakin sniggered. "You could've said it was us and not you.
We were here all the time."
"Sure!" agreed Figure gleefully.
"You could've said that and we'd have given you a sock on the jaw for it."
But Kvakin, who had not expected this particular kind of support from Figure, stared coldly at his friend.
Meanwhile Timur slowly walked off, slapping the tree trunks with his hand as he went.
"He's proud," said Kvakin quietly. "Wants to cry, but won't."
"Let's give him something to cry about," said Figure. He hurled a fir cone at Timur.
"He's proud," Kvakin repeated hoarsely. "And you— you're a stinker!"
And he swung his fist at Figure.
The Figure gaped, then let out a howl and bolted.
Kvakin ran after him and punched him twice in the back.
At last Kvakin stopped, picked up his cap, hit it against his knee to shake off the dust, went up to an ice cream vendor, bought a cone, leaned against a tree and, breathing heavily, bit greedily into the ice cream.
Down by the rifle range Timur came upon Geika and Sima.
"Timur!" Sima called. "Your uncle's looking for you and he seems pretty mad."
"I know, I'm going home."
"Will you come back?"
"I don't know."
"Timur!" said Geika with unexpected gentleness, taking his comrade's hand. "What's the matter?
We haven't done anyone any harm.