So we're some behind schedule when we pulls up under the horse chestnut trees a quarter of a mile beyond in front of a barny, weather-beaten old farmhouse where there's a sour-faced, square-jawed old pirate sittin' in a home made barrel chair smokin' his pipe and scowlin' gloomy at the world in gen'ral. It's Ross himself. Percey J. don't waste any hot air tryin' to melt him. He tells the old guy plain and simple who he is and what he's after. "Dinna talk to me, Mon," says Ross. "I'm no sellin' the farm." "May I ask your reasons?" says Mr. Sturgis. Ross frowns at him a minute without sayin' a word. Then he pries the stubby pipe out from the bristly whiskers and points a crooked finger toward a little bunch of old apple trees on a low knoll. "Yon's my reason, Mon," says he solemn. "Yon wee white stone. Three bairns and the good wife lay under it. I'm no sae youthful mysel'. And when it's time for me to go I'd be sleepin' peaceful, with none o' your rattlin' trolley cars comin' near. That's why, Mon." "Thank you, Mr. Ross," says Percey J. "I can appreciate your sentiments. However, our line would run through the opposite side of your farm, away over there. All we ask is a fifty-foot strip across your----" "You canna have it," says Ross decided, insertin' the pipe once more. Which is where most of us would have weakened, I expect. Not Mr. Sturgis. "Just a moment, Friend Ross," says he. "I suppose you know I have the P., B. & R. back of me, and it's more than likely that your neighbors have said things about us. There is some ground for prejudice too. Our recent stock deals look rather bad from the outside. There have been other circumstances that are not in our favor. But I want to assure you that this enterprise is a genuine, honest attempt to benefit you and your community. It is my own. It is part of the general policy of the road for which I am quite willing to be held largely responsible. Why, I've had this project for a Palisades trolley road in mind ever since I came on here a poor boy, twenty-odd years ago, and took my first trip down the Hudson. This ought to be a rich, prosperous country here. It isn't. A good electric line, such as I propose to build, equipped with heavy passenger cars and running a cheap freight service, would develop this section. It would open to the public a hundred-mile trip that for scenic grandeur could be equaled nowhere in this country. Are you going to stand in the way, Mr. Ross, of an enterprise such as that?" Yep, he was. He puffs away just as mulish as ever.