Still defiantly, Jeff had held forward the cup for inspection, his free arm around the majestic Robin’s shoulders. The camera clicked. Titus did not hear it, through the noise of a hundred barks and yelps. Besides, he was focusing his indignant attention on this slick-spoken opponent of his.
“Wal?” he demanded truculently. “Anything more you-all wants o’ me? He’s our dawg. An’ he’s good enough for us. If you-all don’t like him none——”
“But I do!” effused Graham. “A great dog, Mr. Titus! And”—his eye running along the collie section—“he must be close to championship standard, to have beaten all of these beauties. I’d like to ask you——”
“I ain’t got nothin’ more to say!” growled Jeff, half rising, and his yellow eyetooth began to show under his upcurling lip. “An’ if you-all is aimin’ to start trouble ’bout this yer cup——”
Graham was not aiming to start trouble. Not at all did he like the new expression, nor the voice, of this sulking hill-billy he had sought to patronise. With a signal to the photographer he moved rapidly away, continuing his progress down the aisle.
Jeff glared after him. If the man were going to inform the committee that Titus had bought a cup when he had not been able to win one, why, let him do it! Jeff wasn’t going to run away. So he held his ground, feeling very wrathful, but somewhat scared. He restored the cup to its wrappings. It would be handier to carry it, that way, should he be ejected from the show on account of his fraud.
But no one ejected him. Except that people paused now and then, through the course of the day, to stare amusedly at poor Robin (and to straighten their faces in comical haste as they encountered Jeff’s glower), no one molested Titus.
At four in the afternoon Jeff’s raw nerves could stand the strain no longer. Untying Robin from the bench, he led him to the entrance of the hall. There he sought the superintendent of the show.
“When c’n me an’ my dawg git outen here an’ traipse home?” he asked.
“No dog is supposed to leave the building before ten o’clock to-night, when the show ends,” replied the superintendent, adding with a cryptic glance at Robin: “But I don’t think I need hold your entry to those rules. Go when you like.”