They all went out to the barn with the team. Abner Pickett liked to see, for himself, that his horses were well taken care of. He seldom came from town in a more cheerful mood than that which possessed him to-night. Everything had gone his way during the day, and that fact was clearly reflected in his manner and conversation. When he went into the feed-room after the oats, taking the lantern with him, Gabriel took the opportunity to pull Dannie’s sleeve, and ask in a ghostly whisper:-- “Ain’t heerd about it, has ’e?” “No, I suppose not.” “Who’s a-goin’ to tell ’im?” “Can’t you?” “Not on your life! Wouldn’t do it fer the hull farm--live-stock throwed in. He’d light onto me like a thousan’ o’ brick. ‘Discretion is the better part o’ valor when theys a job to lose,’ ez ol’ Isra’l Pidgin use to say.” “Well, then, I suppose I’ll have to. Thought I’d wait till after he’s had his supper. Wouldn’t you?” “Great scheme! ‘A full stummick is twin brother to a big heart,’ ez ol’ Isra’l--’sh! ’sh!” Abner Pickett came back from the feed-room with a measure brimming full with oats, and divided the grain carefully between the two horses, talking in the meantime in the most cheerful manner of the work on the farm, and of the incidents of his trip to town. When the task at the barn was finished, they all went back to the house, and the old man sat down alone to the supper saved for him by Aunt Martha. Afterward he joined Dannie and Gabriel on the side porch. The smoke from his pipe curled up through the warm, still air, and floated about among the rafters of the ceiling. “Ain’t it about time you went to bed, Dannie?” he asked gently, lifting his feet to a resting-place on the porch railing. “I thought I’d stay up a bit yet, Gran’pap; it’s so warm an’ pleasant to-night.” “Well, I don’t mind if you do.” After that there was silence for a time. Then there was the sound of a footstep on the walk, and a man came up out of the darkness. It was David Brown, the next neighbor to the west. “Heard you were down to the river to-day, Mr. Pickett,” he said. “Wanted to see you a minute. Thought I wouldn’t disturb you till after you’d had your supper.” “Just finished. Glad to see you. Come up on the stoop, David, and have a chair.” Mr. Brown accepted the invitation very willingly. “Thought I’d run down for a minute,” he continued, “and ask about the new railroad. Thought maybe you might ’a’ heard something about it down to the river.” “What new railroad, David?” “Why, the Delaware Valley and Eastern, I believe they call it. I noticed they were pointing pretty straight for my place when they quit to-night.” “I don’t quite understand. Has there been more talk about railroads?” Mr. Brown turned to Dannie. “Haven’t you told your grandfather about it yet?” he asked. “Not yet,” stammered Dannie. “I--I was just going to when you came.”