IT was Strong who had passed Edith Dunmore as night was falling over the hollow of Catamount. He was returning from his day of toil at Nick Pond.
"Just in time," said the young man, who was eating supper at a rude table, from a pole above which two lighted lanterns hung.
The great body of the Emperor fell heavily on a camp-stool. He blew as he flung his hat off.
"Hot!" said he, and then with three or four great gulps he poured a dipper of water down his throat.
Master put a small flask on the table at which they sat.
"Opey-d-dildock?" Strong inquired, softly.
"The same," said Master. "Help yourself."
The Emperor obeyed him without a word.
"How's that?" inquired the young man.
"S-sassy," Strong answered, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.