ress, but I
couldn't wait for it. You see," he added, smiling at the puzzled faces
around him, "it isn't every one who can see the Emperor. It takes a
special errand. In this case, it's water-cress."

"We'll go this very day!" cried Virginia. "Cottonwood Canyon can wait! Don
and I've been planning it all along, but he said Mr.--the Emperor, I
mean--was away up in the mountains. I'll telephone over for the boys this
minute."

Not to question had become a Vigilante principle; and not to appear too
curious, another. Still the mystery which filled their minds concerning
the Emperor was ill-concealed. They knew Patrick Sheehan, the old
Vigilante, who lived on the Lone Mountain trail, and queer Aunt Susan
Nevitt, who was reputed to have a bag of gold nuggets in the cellar of her
tumble-down cabin. But of this personage, the Roman Emperor, they had
surely never heard! Curiosity lent haste to their fingers, and in half an
hour they were ready to start.

"His ca--_estate_ is off the road to Willow Creek," Virginia explained as
they went out to greet the boys. "We've ridden by the driveway loads of
times, but I knew he wasn't at home by his flag not being out. That's the
sign. It's that way in England, you know, at the king's and dukes'
palaces. When they're at home, the flag is flying."

"I see," said Priscilla, as she mounted Cyclone. "Is the Emperor old?"

"Rather. He's nearly eighty. You see, he's been reigning twenty-five
years, hasn't he, Don?"

"Yes, he commenced when Malcolm was of no account--twenty-five years or so
ago. He's met with lots of reverses, too. He was telling me just before
you got home how the Senate wouldn't vote him any money to fix up the
estate. He'll probably apologize. Everybody ready? Come on!" commanded
Don.

They rode for a mile across the open prairie, then turned south into the
Willow Creek road, which followed the foot-hills. Conversation regarding
the Emperor was tantalizing, and questioning was forbidden. Accordingly,
they pocketed their curiosity, and devoted their time to one another, and
to the signs of approaching autumn upon the brown hillsides. Pedro and
MacDuff, eager for a gallop, left the other horses, and dashed along a
three-path, grass-grown trail which encircled the hill and met the road
again a mile beyond.

"It's just the chance I wanted," said Donald, reining in MacDuff to ride
beside Virginia. "I want to ask you about Carver. I can't make him out
lately. I don't know