think I shall ask him, anyway." Her manner changed. "Why
do they always call him the old man? He is not such a very old man."

"They'd call a baby 'the old man' if he was superintendent. Do they say
much about him?" Zephyr asked, meditatively.

"Oh yes, lots. M'sier Mo-reeson"--she made a wry face at the name--"is
always talking about that minion of capitalistic oppression that's
sucking the life-blood of the serfs of toil. Daddy hates the old man.
He's afraid of him. Daddy always hates anyone he's afraid of, except
me."

Zephyr grunted absently.

"That's so." Elise spoke emphatically. "That's why I'm here to-day. I
told daddy that if I was old enough to get married I was old enough to
do as I liked."

In spite of his languid appearance Zephyr was very acute. He was getting
a great deal that needed careful consideration. He was intensely
interested, and he wanted to hear more. He half hesitated, then decided
that the end justified the means.

"What makes you think that Pierre hates the old man?" he ventured,
without changing countenance.

"Oh, lots of things. He tells Luna and M'sieu Mo-reeson"--another wry
face--"to 'look hout.' He talks to the men, tells them that the 'hol'
man ees sleek, ver' sleek, look hout, da's hall, an' go slow,' and a lot
of things. I'm awfully hungry, Zephyr, and I don't want to go down for
breakfast. Haven't you got something good in your pack? It looks awfully
good." She prodded the pack with inquisitive fingers.

Zephyr rose to his feet.

"It will be better when I've cooked it. You'll eat a breakfast after my
cooking?"

Elise clapped her hands.

"That will be fine. I'll just sit here and boss you. If you're good, and
you are, you know, I'll tell you some more about M'sieu. Suppose we just
call him M'sieu, just you and me. That'll be our secret."

Zephyr gathered dry sticks and started a fire. He opened his pack, cut
off some slices of bacon, and, impaling them on green twigs, hung them
before the fire. A pinch of salt and baking powder in a handful of flour
was mixed into a stiff paste, stirred into the frying-pan, which was
propped up in front of the fire. He took some cups from his pack, and,
filling them with water, put them on the glowing coals.

Elise kept up a rattling chatter through it all.

"Oh, I almost forgot. Daddy says M'sieu is going to be a great man, a
great labour leader. That's what M'sieu says himself--that he will lead
benighted labour from the galling