"Level-headed and reliable in every spot an' place, an' a good-looker," Migley continued, as if he were selling a road-horse, while he nudged the Emperor. "Look at him. I'd swap faces with that boy any day and give him ten thousand dollars to boot. Wouldn't you?"
Mr. Migley spoke in dead earnest. He pinched the knee of Strong and waited for his reply.
"W-wouldn't fit me," the Emperor replied.
"Pop" Migley took the answer as a compliment and gurgled with good feeling.
"Strong, you're a kind of a boss up here in the hills," said he. "There isn't a jay in the pine lands that wouldn't walk twenty miles to caucus if you asked him to."
"Dunno," Strong answered, doubtfully.
"I know what I'm talking about," said the lumberman, with a smile. "I want the vote o' the town o' Pitkin. If we get that we can give 'em all the flag."
Strong was not unaccustomed to this kind of appeal. There were not many voters in his town, but they always followed the Emperor.
"You can get it for us," Mr. Migley insisted.
"N-no."