Monroe followed languidly, puckering his mouth into a low whistle, that might have meant more than the blowing out of good humor. With most men, whistling means the venting of a superfluity of joy; but with Monroe, it might have meant a cooling drop in his cup of anger. Cobb came lolling after them, in his usual undisturbed forbearance. Debouching into the parlor, with the stellar lights trailing, the king touched a button; presto! starlight, moonlight, sunlight, all together, in one grand aurora borealis, flashed mute darkness into palpitating day. "This is my universe," cried the king, throwing up both hands, as if he were beginning the Sermon on the Mount. "Grand!" whispered the ghost. "Grand!" said the ring-master. "Grand" cried back The Moses, The Napoleon, The Wellington, The Washington, The Roosevelt, The Pathfinder, The Man With the Hoe, The Babes in the Woods, The Doves, The Dieman, on the walls. "Grand!" echoed Mozart, Beethoven, Wagner, Shakespeare, Milton, Poe, Irving, Longfellow, Emerson, standing about in corners and alcoves in their statuary dumbness. "Grand!" pealed the Giant Grand resting on four legs, like an exhibition slab of mahogany, in a corner. "Grand!" laughed the settees, the tete-a-tetes, the rockers, the cushions, the chairs, as if they were ready to jump up and slap the visitors on the back and seat them down. "Grand!" shouted the king. "Well, I should eat a bedbug, if you can surpass it in this old town for dazzle." And everything hung its head in mortification. "Grand!" they all said, as the king entered the dining room, with its glitter and its glimmer and its splendor and its grandeur. "Here is where I eat," he remarked, after seeing his friends dumfounded and speechless. Dumfounded? Why, of course! Speechless? Why, to be sure! Shucks! Who said the average man isn't a pompous idiot? "To business, now, gentlemen; to business," said Peter, waving his hand toward his private den, where first he was greeted in his royal robes by the genteel ghost and the ring-master. "Well?" said Peter, after seating himself in his chair of state, directing his question to Cobb. "Let Monroe speak," said Cobb. "Let Cobb speak," said Monroe. "Gentlemen, my proposition is the proposed new water system," said Cobb, venturing forth. "What about it?" "Well, what about it?" asked Peter. "Can we pull it off?" asked Cobb. "How much is there in it?" asked the generous Peter. "Couple hundred thousand," said Cobb. "Pull her off, then," decided Peter. "How much do I get out of it?" asked Monroe. "Aren't you working your little stunt for bigger game, Monroe?" asked Peter. "What new stunt you up to now?" asked Cobb, suspiciously. "That's a private matter," replied Monroe. "What is it, Peter?" asked Cobb. Then to Monroe: "Not scheming behind my back, Monroe?" "No such intention," answered Monroe. "What is it, Peter?" asked Cobb, feelingly. "Monroe, I told you to keep no secrets from Cobb," said Peter.