or felt called upon to apologize again before opening the door of
the lean-to.

"The Senate still appropriates for conquests," he said gravely. "I am much
opposed. The Empire is large enough."

They went within. The lean-to was a chaotic place, filled to overflowing
with pick-axes, spades, elk-horns, musk-rat traps, mining tools, samples
of coal, and curiously-colored pieces of rock. Some skins, stretched on
boards, were drying on the wall; some rude fishing-rods stood in one
corner. The little room was strangely like the Emperor's poor, befuddled
brain.

The room in the main house was hardly imperial. A small, rickety stove,
bearing corn-meal porridge in a tin basin, stood in the center. In one
corner was the Emperor's bed, piled high with skins; in another, a scarred
and battered table. Some ragged articles of clothing hung about the room.
By the one window was his chair, and on the floor close by lay a soiled
and tattered book--Smith's _History of Ancient Rome!_ The Emperor picked
it up eagerly and showed it to his guests.

"I was reading over again all that my reign has accomplished when you
came," he said. "There are the fire department, and the police, and the
new roads, and the patronage of poets. I feel encouraged when I think it
all over."

"I should think you would," complimented Virginia. "And then think of all
the things you did before you were Emperor! Think of the early days out
here--the Vigilantes and all!"

Mr. Livy's faded blue eyes gleamed. Epochs had become as nothing to him.
Now he was Emperor of Rome, and then he had fought against robbers and
road-agents in a new country. It was all one.

"Don't I remember it!" he cried. "Don't I remember how we hung seven
robbers in one night from a single cottonwood! Don't I remember how old
Jim Gillis said to me: 'For God's sake, Levinsky, get me one last drink
before I die!' I got it for him, and in a minute more he was dead!"

Jack and Carver's eyes shone. They thought old tales were forthcoming, but
they did not know the Emperor. He said no more of Vigilante days, but
turned toward the stove to stir the porridge.

"I'll get the water-cress for you directly," he said with a return to his
old dignity. "Give it to your father with my compliments, Miss Virginia. I
sent some but recently to the censor. No payment, I insist!"

Thus dismissed, his guests passed reluctantly outside. Ten minutes later
they were making their farewells. The Emperor stood bet