The novel "Zhurbyiny" is well known to Soviet readers. It is devoted to the working class—the great class of creators. The book tells about a working dynasty of shipbuilders, about people whose entire lives are tied to their beloved craft, to a factory that has become like home for them. Through the images of the novel’s heroes, the writer shows a new type of Soviet working person—with a wide outlook, principles, and a strong sense of responsibility for their work.
On the evening of May Day, just as the festive roar of Moscow guns fell silent in the loudspeakers, Police district inspector Yegorov heard gunfire.
Yegorov tossed aside the cigarette he had just lit, crushed it under his heel, and, with a habitual gesture to adjust his holster, walked across the alley toward the sound of shots. Through the flung-open windows in the alley one could hear phonographs, guitars, and the wind dancing up tulle curtains; and from the spirited clatter of heels on the floorboards newly washed for the holiday, the walls of log houses trembled faintly.
“Let me dance! Let me stomp!”
“Can the floors in this house really crack?”
At another time, the inspector would probably have turned into Natalia Karpovna’s courtyard—the one with flowerbeds excavated and piled there; he would have respected the doorway by scraping his boot soles over the motley burlap spread on the porch and pulled the wooden handle of an old-fashioned bell.
But the shots kept booming… From one step, Yegorov moved to a heavy run and soon, holding his holster, burst out of the alley onto Yakornaya.
Behind a slatted fence, in the dense evening shade from old poplars and lilacs, a crowded crowd was rustling. Yegorov saw nothing suspicious here: friends and neighbors had simply gathered with the Zhurbyins, and since it was warm, they were making the most of the outdoors.