"Is that one on exhibition?"
"I reckon he is, if you want to see him."
"Well," said Miss Adams, with an assumption of indifference, "I don't know that it's worth while; but—well, I reckon I will look at him."
"This way, then, if you please," said the keeper, leading the way up an adjacent flight of stairs and conducting the fair one to the room occupied by Mr. Peters.
Bob was gazing gloomily out of the window and did not recognize the presence of his new guests until the end of a parasol touched his shoulder.
"Miss Adams!" he exclaimed, offering his hand.
The young lady tossed her head haughtily:
"I don't wish to shake hands with an enemy of my country, sir."
"I see," said Bob, coolly, "the presence of a third party obliges us to vail our emotions. Keeper, leave the saloon."