“Are you the contractor having in charge the grading of this section of the Delaware Valley and Eastern Railroad?” he inquired. “That’s what I’m here for,” responded McDonough, “though I don’t seem to be getting to work very fast.” The man turned to Nicholson. “And are you the engineer having in charge the fixing of permanent location and grades?” “That’s about it,” replied Nicholson. “Then, gentlemen, permit me to introduce myself to you as the sheriff of Meredith County, and to serve on each of you this writ.” He bowed and handed to each of them a document bearing an official seal. “It is a writ of injunction,” he continued, “from the court of Meredith County, issued at the instance of the Tidewater and Western Railroad Company, commanding and enjoining the Delaware and Eastern Railroad Company, its agents, employees, contractors, and engineers, and all and every of you, that you do from henceforth altogether absolutely desist from locating, staking out, grading, or building a line of railroad through Pickett’s Gap in said county, or along or upon the approaches thereto; which gap and approaches have been duly appropriated, condemned, and acquired for railroad purposes by the said Tidewater and Western Railroad Company.” The sheriff rolled out the words of the injunction with solemn and imposing voice and manner, then he folded his own copy of the writ and returned it to his pocket. “I believe I have performed my duty, gentlemen,” he said politely, “and I wish you both a very good day!” Then he went up to where Abner Pickett was still seated on the wall and shook the old man’s hand with hearty vigor. He had taken in the situation at a glance. “Don’t blame you one bit, Mr. Pickett,” he said. “I’d ’a’ done the same thing in your place.” “Thank you,” responded the old man, quietly, “I’m simply doing my duty by the dead.” When the writs of injunction were handed to McDonough and Nicholson, they stared at each other blankly for a moment; then the contractor, who had been through similar experiences before, remarked quietly that it looked as if the game was up. “I don’t mind a little thing like an old man with a gun,” he said to Nicholson, when the sheriff had finished reading the injunction, “but when I run up against a writ like this, I’m through so long as the writ is in force. I undertook to disobey one once up on the Susquehanna road, and it cost me fifteen hundred dollars before I got through with the job. We learn by experience.” Nicholson was thoroughly annoyed and upset. He did not understand why the service of a paper like that, on a contractor and engineer, should have the effect of blocking a railroad; and he said so in no very polite language. McDonough smiled, and began to give orders to his men about loading up the tools again.