It is notable that lawless feeling--especially after it has passed from sire to son--some day loses the shame which has covered and kept it from insufferable offence. Two or three citizens who sat near began to whisper and shake their heads. One of them spoke out loudly and indignantly; "His part of the public is mostly himself. He is trying to buy his way into the Assembly, and I hope he'll fail." There were hot words between the Migleys and their accuser, until the lumbermen left the car. Soon Master fell asleep. Strong took out his old memorandum-book and went over sundry events and reflections. When Master awoke the Emperor still sat with the worn book in his hands. "I've been asleep," said the young man. "What have you been doing?" "Th-thinkin' out a few th-thoughts," Strong answered, as he put the book in his pocket. The Emperor began to speak of the Congressman's courtesies in a tone of self-congratulation. Master laughed heartily. "It was a pretty little plot," said he. "Those common fellows couldn't manage you, and they passed you on. I'll bet he asked you to help Migley." Strong smiled and nodded. "You haven't made me any promise, and I want you to feel free to do what you think best," said the young man. The train pulled into Bees' Hill in the edge of the wilderness, and they left it and took quarters at the Rustic Inn. Bees' Hill was a new lumber settlement where there were two mills, three inns, a number of stores, and a post-office. The bar-room was crowded with brawny mill-hands from across the border, in varying stages of intoxication. The inn itself was full of the reek of cheap tobacco and the sound of cheaper oaths. The most offensive in the crowd were of the new generation of back-country Americans. Their boastfulness and profanity were in full flood. They used the sacred names with a cheerful, glib familiarity, as if they were only saying "Bill" or "Joe." The town had begun to ruin the woodsman as well as the woods. Here were some of the sons of the pioneers--mostly "guides" and choremen of abundant leisure. Every day they were "dressed up," and sat about the inn like one who patiently tries his luck at a fishing-hole. They had discovered themselves and were like a child with its first doll. They had, as it were, torn themselves apart and put themselves together again. They had experimented with cologne, hair-oil, poker, colored neckties, hotel fare, and execrable whiskey. They were in love with pleasure and had sublime faith in luck. They spent their time looking and listening and talking and primping and dreaming of sudden wealth and kitchen-maids. Strong and Master stood a moment looking at a noisy company of youths at the bar. "They speak of the President by his first name, and are rather free with the Creator," said Master. "J-jus' little mehoppers," Strong remarked, with a look of pity. In his speech a conceited fellow, who spoke too frequently of himself, was always a "mehopper."