Who tries exactly what, Nicky did not specify.
He stood on tiptoe and, closing his eyes, slapped Vorobyaninov's face.
Ippolit Matveyevich raised his elbow slightly but did not dare utter a sound.
"That's right," said Ostap, "and now on the neck. Twice.
That's it.
Can't be helped.
Sometimes the eggs have to teach a lesson to a chicken who gets out of hand. Once more, that's it.
Don't be shy.
Don't hit him any more on the head, it's his weakest point."
If the Stargorod conspirators had seen the master-mind and father of Russian democracy at that crucial moment, it can be taken for certain that the secret alliance of the Sword and Ploughshare would have ended its existence.
"That's enough, I think," said Nicky, hiding his hand in his pocket.
"Just once more," implored Ostap.
"To hell with him.
He'll know next time."
Nicky went away.
Ostap went upstairs to Ivanopulo's and looked down.
Ippolit Matveyevich stood sideways to the house, leaning against the iron railing of the embassy.
"Citizen Michelson," he called. "Konrad Karlovich.
Come inside.
I permit you."
Ippolit Matveyevich entered the room in slightly better spirits.
"Unheard-of impudence," he exclaimed angrily. "I could hardly control myself."
"Dear, dear," sympathized Ostap. "What has the modern youth come to?
Terrible young people!
Chase after other people's wives.
Spend other people's money. Complete decadence. But tell me, does it really hurt when they hit you on the head? "
"I'll challenge him to a duel!"
"Fine!
I can recommend a good friend of mine.
He knows the duelling code by heart and has two brooms quite suitable for a struggle to the death.
You can have Ivanopulo and his neighbour on the right as seconds.
He's an ex-honorary citizen of the city of Kologriv and still even brags about the title.
Or you can have a duel with mincing-machines-it's more elegant.
Each wound is definitely fatal.
The wounded adversary is automatically turned into a meat ball.
How do you like the idea, Marshal?"
At that moment there was a whistle from the street and Ostap went down to receive the* reports from his young agents.
The waifs had coped splendidly with their mission.
Four chairs had gone to the Columbus Theatre.
The waif explained in detail how the chairs were transported in a wheelbarrow, unloaded and carted into the building through the stage-door.
Ostap already knew the location of the theatre.
Another young pathfinder said that two chairs had been taken away in a taxi.
The boy did not seem to be very bright.
He knew the street where the chairs had been taken and even remembered the number of the apartment was 17, but could not remember the number of the house. 152
"I ran too quick," said the waif. "It flew out me head."
"You won't get any money," declared the boss.
"But, mister!
I'll show you the place."
"All right, stay here.
We'll go there together."