IN the morning, a little after sunrise, Strong and Master set out
across the State land stretching from the railroad to Lost River, a
distance of some fourteen miles. Not an hour's walk from the station,
at Bees' Hill, they passed another lumber job, where, on the land of
the State, nearly a score of men were engaged felling the tall pines and
hauling them to skid ways. The Emperor flung off his pack and hurried to
the workers.
"Who's j-job?" he inquired.
"Migley's. We're working on a contract for the dead timber."
"Ca-call that dead?" Strong waved his hand in the direction of a number
of trees, newly felled, which had been as healthy as any in the forest.
"Q-quit, er I'll go to-day an' c-com-plain o' ye," he added.
"You can go to ------ if you like," said the foreman, angrily.
Quicker than the jaws of a trap Strong's hand caught the boss by the
back of his neck and flung him headlong.
The dealer in hasty speech rose and took a step towards the Emperor and
halted.
"B-better think it over," said Strong, coolly.
The boss turned to his men. He shouted at some eight or ten of them who
had come near, "Are you going to stand there and see me treated that
way."
"You fight your own battles," said one of them. "For my part, I think
the Emp'ror is right."
"So do I," said another. "I've pulled the brier for you as long as I
want to."
The rest of the "gang" stood still and said nothing.
"I'll go and see Migley about this," declared the foreman, who was
walking hurriedly in the direction of his camp. He turned and shouted to
the toilers, "You fellers can go 'histe the turkey.'"
One who had to pick up his effects and get out was told to "histe the
turkey" there in the woods.
Strong and Master had a few words with the men and resumed their journey
to Lost River.
As they walked on a brush whip hit the Emperor in the face. He stopped
and broke it and flung it down with a word of reproof. He often did that
kind of thing--as if the trees and brushes were alive and on speaking
terms with him. Sometimes he would stop and compliment them for their
beauty.
Soon the young man spoke.
"After all, the law is no better than they who make it," said he.
The Emperor turned as if not sure of his meaning.
"Bribery!" said Master. "Migley got a law passed which provides a fine
so low for cutting State timber that he can pay it and make money."
"B-Business is k-king," said Strong, thoughtfully. He perceived how even
the State itself had become a subject of the great ruler.
"And Satan is behind the throne," Master went on. "Down goes the forest
and the will of the people. I tell you, Strong, the rich thief is a
great peril; so many souls and bodies are mortgaged by his pay-roll
and his favor. Look out for him. He can make you no better than beef or
mutton."
They proceeded on their journey in silence, and, when the sun had turned
westward and they sat down to drink and rest on the shore of Lost River,
Strong began to write, slowly and carefully, in his old memorandum-book,
some thoughts intended for his future guidance. And he wrote as follows
_"July the 5
"Strong says 'Man that advises other folks to go to hell is apt to git
thair first.'
"also that 'a man who loses his temper aint got nothin left but a fool.'
Strong is shamed.
"'Taint nuff to look a gift hoss in the mouth better turn him rong side
out and see how hes lined."_
Having "thought out" these thoughts and set them down, the Emperor
rose and put the book in his pocket and hurried up the familiar trail,
followed by his companion. A little farther on they met Socky, Sue, and
Sinth.
"Merry C'ris'mus!" the Emperor shouted as he caught sight of them. He
put his great hands upon their backs and drew the boy and girl close
against his knees. "My leetle f-fawns!" he said, with a chuckle of
delight, as he clumsily patted them. His eyes were damp with joy;
his hands trembled in their eagerness to open the pack. He untied the
strings and uncovered the rocking-horse and other trinkets.
"Whoa!" he shouted, as he put the little, dapple-gray, wooden horse on
the smooth trail and set him rocking.
Cries of delight echoed in that green aisle of the woods. Strong put
the children on the back of the wooden horse and gave a brass trumpet to
Socky and buckled a girdle of silver bells around the waist of Sue. Then
he put on his pack, lifted horse and children, and bore them into Lost
River camp. The laughter of the young man joined that of the children.
"Silas Strong!" Sinth exclaimed, as the Emperor unloaded in front of the
cook-tent.
"P-present!" he answered, promptly.
"Can't hear myself think," said she, with a suggestion of the old twang
in her voice.
"N-now, t-try," said Silas Strong, as he gave her a little package.
The expression of her face changed quickly. With slow but eager
hands she undid the package. Her mouth opened with surprise when she
discovered a ring with a shiny, purple stone in it.
"G-gold an' amethys'!" the Emperor exclaimed, calmly and tenderly, his
voice mellowed by affection.
"Gold an' amethyst," she repeated, solemnly.
"Uh-huh!" It was a low, affectionate sound of affirmation from the
Emperor, made with his mouth closed.
Her lips trembled, her face changed color, her eyes filled. It was oddly
pathetic that so vain a trifle should have so delighted her--homely and
simple as she was. Since her girlhood' she had dreamed of a proud but
impossible day that should put upon her finger a gold ring with a shiny,
purple stone in it. Strong knew of her old longing. He knew that she had
never had half a chance in this world of unequal burdens, and he felt
for her.
"I tol' ye," said he, in a voice that trembled a little. "B-better
times."
She looked down at the ring, but did not answer.
"That celebrates your engagement to the Magic Word," said Master.
She put it on her finger and gave it a glance of pride. Then she said,
"Thank you, Silas," and repaired to her quarters and sat down and wept.
Her brother shouldered the axe and went to cut some wood for the stove.
She could hear him singing as he walked away slowly:
"The green groves are gone from the hills, Maggie,
Where oft we have wandered an' sung,
An' gone are the cool, shady rills, Maggie,