LOCKSMITH, PARROT, FORTUNE-TELLER 6i right hand, but there was not a spark for ten minutes. Then there was a terrific rattling of metal, a series of explosions, and the motor-bike was enveloped in a cloud of smoke. Viktor Mikhaylovich hurled himself on to the saddle, and at an unearthly speed the motor bike carried him out through the arch into the middle of the street and then stopped dead. He was just going to leap off and examine his mysterious machine when it unexpectedly set off backwards, dived through the archway and stopped dead in the middle of the yard, where it let off a piercing scream and blew up. Viktor Mikhaylovich escaped by a miracle. He collected the fragments of the motor-cycle, and after another period of strenuous work he produced a dynamo which looked extraordinarily effective but did not work. The crown of his activity as a locksmith was the incident connected with the gates of the house next door. The House Committee had made an arrange ment with him by which he was to overhaul the iron gates, repair them thoroughly, and paint them in some economical colour, while they undertook to pay him twenty-one roubles seventy-five copecks after the work had been inspected and passed by a special commission. The stamp on the agreement was to be paid for by Polesov. Viktor Mikhaylovich took the gates off their hinges and like a Samson carried them into his workshop. There he set to work with enthusiasm. It took two days to take the gates to pieces. He did it so thor oughly that the place was Uttered with the various parts. The screws were thrown into the perambulator, and the iron poles and other pieces were piled up on the floor. Another two days were spent in examining the parts that had to be repaired. Then a most unpleasant thing happened in the town. A water main burst in one of the principal streets and Viktor Mikhaylovich spent the rest of the week leaning over the hole and
