“Good-bye--and thank you again!” she said, softly, giving him her free hand just as the horse started. “Say! you're the fellow who's going to live at Atterson's place?” observed Pete. “I'll see you later,” and he waved his hand airily as he rode off. “So that's Pete Dickerson, is it?” ruminated Hiram, as he watched the horses out of sight. “Well, if his father, Sam, is anything like him, we certainly have got a sweet pair of neighbors!” CHAPTER XII. SOMETHING ABOUT A PASTURE FENCE That afternoon Hiram hitched up the old horse and drove into town. He went to see the lawyer who had transacted Uncle Jeptha Atterson's small business in the old man's lifetime, and had made his will--Mr. Strickland. Hiram judged that this gentleman would know as much about the Atterson place as anybody. “No--Mr. Atterson never said anything to me about giving a neighbor water-rights,” the lawyer said. “Indeed, Mr. Atterson was not a man likely to give anything away--until he had got through with it himself. “Dickerson once tried to buy a right at that corner of the Atterson pasture; but he and the old gentleman couldn't come to terms. “Dickerson has no water on his place, saving his well and his rights on the river. It makes it bad for him, I suppose; but I do not advise Mrs. Atterson to let that fence stand. Give that sort of a man an inch and he'll take a mile.” “But what shall I do?” “That's professional advice, young man,” returned the lawyer, “smiling. But I will give it to you without charge. “Merely go and pull the new posts up and replace them on the line. If Dickerson interferes with you, come to me and we'll have him bound over before the Justice of the Peace. “You represent Mrs. Atterson and are within her rights. That's the best I can tell you.” Now, Hiram was not desirous of starting any trouble--legal or otherwise--with a neighbor; but neither did he wish to see anybody take advantage of his old boarding mistress. He knew that, beside farming for her, he would probably have to defend her from many petty annoyances like the present case. So he bought the wire he needed for repairs, a few other things that were necessary, and drove back to the farm, determined to go right ahead and await the consequences. Among his purchases was an axe. In the workshop on the farm was a fairly good grindstone; only the treadle was broken and Hiram had to repair this before he could make much headway in grinding the axe. Henry Pollock lived too far away to be called upon in such a small emergency. Being obliged to work alone sharpens one's wits. The young farmer had to resort to shifts and expedients on every hand, as he went along. The day before, while wandering in the wood, he had marked several white oaks of the right size for posts. He would have preferred cedars, of course; but those trees were scarce on the Atterson tract--and they might be needed for some more important job later on.