"The track will pass straight through your front door," answered Ben, in a business-like manner. The farmer looked as though his death sentence had just been pronounced. He invited the surveying party into the house, and insisted upon their becoming his guests while engaged in their work. Meantime he set about seeing what could be done to prevent the proposed road from running through his land. Waiting until evening, he accosted one of Ben's associates, saying: "This ere road is going to do me a powerful lot of harm. I'd give a pile of money rather than have the track cut through my property." The confidence man stroked his moustache thoughtfully, and rejoined: "Well, you might speak to Mr. Hogan about the matter. Perhaps you could induce him to change the route. I'd offer him five hundred dollars at the least, if I were you. He wouldn't consider anything less than that." The next day the farmer approached Ben on the subject, and after beating around the bush for some time, finally offered him five hundred dollars if he would change the line of the road. Ben pretended to hesitate, said that it ought to be a thousand, at least; and finally accepted the money. The next day the party returned to Pittsburg, for the purpose, as Ben explained, of explaining to the directors that the route of the road would have to be changed. The farmer, of course, discovered that he had been swindled, and threatened several times to bring a suit against Hogan for damages; but none of these were ever carried through. Soon after this adventure, Ben left for Pittsburg, and struck out for Petrolia. This was his first advent into Petrolia. Kitty remained in the Pittsburg house. Ben's first venture in Petrolia was the purchase of a small wooden house from one Lauterbach, for which he was to pay three hundred and fifty dollars. The house stood on Fairview street. Ben at once laid in a large stock of liquors, having fitted up an ice chest capable of holding two tons of ice. While he was making his preparations to open this house, the good citizens of Petrolia took alarm at the idea of having Ben Hogan for a fellow townsman, and at once called a meeting at which it was voted to arrest all whiskey dealers in the place. Messrs. Campbell, Jamison and others were among the leaders in this crusade. The liquor dealers were arrested, according to the programme, and Ben appeared in the justice's court as their counsel. Bail was fixed in the sum of five hundred dollars each. Ben at once offered to become surety for the indicted dealers. The Squire, as the police justice was called, eyed Hogan a little suspiciously. "What is your name?" he inquired. "Ben Hogan," was the prompt reply. This caused an immediate sensation in the court-room. The Squire was paralyzed, so to speak, at the announcement. He was afraid to accept the offered bail, and still more afraid to refuse it. "Where is your real estate?" he asked.