Dannie’s heart began to thump in his breast. He knew, intuitively, that the story of the night survey was coming. And with that story would come also--what? He glanced fearfully up at his grandfather, who had settled back again in his big chair, and was puffing slowly at his pipe. “Well, give it to us,” said the old man. “W’y,” responded Gabriel, “seems ’at along in the night sometime, after them first fellers had set their stakes, ’nother lot o’ surveyors come down the crick, an’ run another line through the gap by moonlight, or lamplight, or suthin’. The talk is ’at they made their survey for the Tidewater an’ Western. Tell ye what! ef them two railroads git to fightin’ each other, the fur’s got to fly. ‘The bigger the barrel, the bigger the battle,’ ez ol’ Isra’l Pidgin use to say.” Abner Pickett straightened up in his chair, took his pipe from his mouth and looked at the hired man incredulously. “Fact, Mr. Pickett,” continued Gabriel. “Queer thing about it, too. The fellers that made the night survey run aroun’ the graveyard stiddy crossin’ it. I couldn’t make out, before, what them stakes was a-doin’ t’other side o’ the crick.” The old man was already beginning to lose his temper, as he foresaw the possible consequences to him if the story told by Gabriel should prove to be true. “Why, you fool!” he ejaculated, “there’s only one line o’ stakes. I’ve seen ’em all myself. I’ve been over the whole line.” The hired man was not in the least disturbed at being called a fool by Abner Pickett. He had gotten over being sensitive on that point years before. Seeing that his story had aroused the keenest interest of his listener, he went on, with the most apparent enjoyment. “That’s the queerest part of it. Both railroads claim the stakes. Fellers ’at done the night work says they wan’t a stick ner a stake to be seen ner found from the big rock in the potater field to the land line t’other side o’ the gap when they made their survey. Fellers ’at done the afternoon work swears ’at their stakes was set ev’ry fifty feet from end to end o’ the line, an’ was all in place at six o’clock in the evenin’ w’en they knocked off work.” Both the old man and Dannie were listening now with intense earnestness. Gabriel recrossed his legs, smacked his lips in keen enjoyment of the sensation he felt he was creating, and kept on. “Fact, Mr. Pickett! Queerest thing of all; I’d swear them fellers in the afternoon run their line straight acrost the graveyard. Seen ’em drive stakes there with my own eyes. Didn’t you, Dannie?” “Yes, I did, Gabriel.” “Yes; well, where was them stakes next mornin’? I hunted high an’ low fer ’em; couldn’t find hide ner hair of ary one. Stiddy that there was them stakes acrost the crick. What do you think o’ that, anyhow, Mr. Pickett?” Mr. Pickett turned in his chair till he was squarely face to face with his informant. “Did David Brown tell you all that?” he asked slowly. “Ev’ry word of it, Mr. Pickett, an’ more.”