"You don't understand me. I refer to the Hebrew prophet. I want to see—"
"Well, you can't see him here. This is the gas-office. Try next door."
At the adjoining window Mr. Lamb said,
"Look here! I want to see Deacon Jones a minute about the prophet
Moses, and I wish you'd tell him so."
"No, I won't," replied the clerk. "He's too busy to be bothered with-anything of that kind."
"But I must see him," said Peter; "I insist on seeing him. The fact of the matter is, I've got a bet about Moses'—"
"Don't make any difference what you've got; you can't see him."
"But I will. I want you to go and tell him I'm here, and that I wish for some information respecting Moses. I'll have you discharged if you don't go."
"Don't care if you want to see him about all the children of Israel, and the Pharaohs and Nebuchadnezzars. I tell you you can't. That settles it. Turn off your gas and quit."
Then Peter resolved to give up the deacon and try Rev. Dr. Dox. When he called at the parsonage, the doctor came down into the parlor. Because of the doctor's deafness there was a little misunderstanding when Peter said,