"That cow's dead," he remarked as he came up.

"Is it?" said the one called Bill. Both rose, and went into the shed.
Peter started to go with them.

"You can't come in," said the new-comer.

But Peter passed in, without paying the least attention to him.

"Come back," called the man, following Peter.

Peter turned to him: "You are one of the employees of the National Milk
Company?" he asked.

"Yes," said the man, "and we have orders--"

Peter usually let a little pause occur after a remark to him, but in
this case he spoke before the man completed his speech. He spoke, too,
with an air of decision and command that quieted the man.

"Go back to your work," he said, "and don't order me round. I know what
I'm about." Then he walked after the other two men as rapidly as the
dimness permitted. The employee scratched his head, and then followed.

Dim as the light was, Peter could discern that he was passing between
two rows of cows, with not more than space enough for men to pass each
other between the rows. It was filthy, and very warm, and there was a
peculiar smell in the air which Peter did not associate with a cow
stable. It was a kind of vapor which brought some suggestion to his