“You’ll do!” he exclaimed. “Stand right where you are as long as you want to. If you don’t own this farm some day, it won’t be because you don’t deserve to. I’m through, anyway,” he added, glancing at his watch. “Put a plug there, John,” addressing an axeman, “and tell the boys to chain up. The country beyond this is open and free--room for fifty railroads; but the gap is ours now, and the game is ours, and the Tidewater and Western may catch us if it can. Put a bench on the point of that rock, Miller, and then get your tools together.” The man addressed chiselled a cross on the projecting crown of a huge rock near by, the leveller took the height of the point and recorded it, and the work of the day was done. The engineer removed the head of his transit from the tripod, and as the rest of the party faced toward the gap, he turned to Dannie. “Well, good night,” he said; “I don’t like your manners, but I admire your spunk. Shall we part friends?” He held out his hand as he spoke, but Dannie looked at him contemptuously and did not reply. “Oh, just as you feel about it,” continued the man. “But kindly give your aged and respected grandparent this bit of advice from me, ‘Don’t fight the Delaware Valley and Eastern.’” He waved his hand jauntily, flung back another unanswered “Good night,” and five minutes later, with the rest of his company, he entered into the dark recesses of the gap, on his way to the river and the town. CHAPTER III It was after dark before Abner Pickett came home. Dannie had waited long for him at the gate, his loneliness and anxiety increasing as the minutes went by. He knew, from long experience, what to expect when his grandfather should learn about the railroad survey through the gap and the graveyard. He sincerely hoped that he would learn about it before he reached home. Not that he, himself, stood in fear of his grandfather, very far from that; but he dreaded to be the bearer to him of evil tidings. Nevertheless it was with a long sigh of relief that he recognized the familiar sound of the rattling buckboard as it came up out of the darkness to his ears. Ten minutes later Abner Pickett drove up to the gate. “Hello, Gran’pap!” “Hello, Dan! Out rather late, ain’t you?” “Waitin’ for you, Gran’pap.” “Well, I’m here, an’ glad to get here. How’d things go to-day? Gabriel get the potatoes all out? Have a good time at school, Dan?” It was evident that he had not heard about the railroad, or he certainly would not have been in this cheerful frame of mind. After mature deliberation Dannie decided that it would not be advisable to break the news to him until after he had eaten his supper. Gabriel came out to help carry the parcels into the house and put away the team. “I got the suspenders for you, Dan--red in the middle, with sky-blue edges an’ pink posies on the end. How does that strike you, eh?” “Thank you, Gran’pap. They’re very nice, I’m sure.”