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I whispered, groping, and touching something in his hand. "Kojukhov's bombs. I have them both. Come. Ah, poor Boris, he's with Zina now!" The bomb was a section of iron pipe about two inches in diameter and eighteen inches long. Its ends were closed with iron caps. Filled with nitroglycerine, such pipes are terrible shells, which explode by concussion.
The comrades, though willing to risk death at the Volga Bridge, were horrified by Kojukhov's tapping of the iron bombs together, and all rose in fear of their explosion, all except Verbitzsky and me. "For God's sake, be more careful, Boris!" said my friend. "Oh, you're afraid, too?" said Kojukhov. "Pah! you cowards of the Peace Section!" He tapped the bombs together again.
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