"Wa'al," said Mr. Took, at length, "ye come t' th' right place fere information fer onct in yer life, Roger. I know jest th' feller ye want. He used t' live out here 'fore he growed up, got a eddercation, 'n' become one a' them chaps what looks through a glass, 'n' tells ye 'bout bugs in th' drinkin' water, 'n' wigglers turnin inter musquiters. 'N' he looks through a thing like a telescope, 'n' tells ye 'bout lines, 'n' angles, 'n' feet, 'n' chains, 'n' links, 'n' so on. What d' ye call them fellers?" "Surveyors," ventured Roger. "That's it. He's a surveyor. Addison Vanter is his name. He's one of 'em employed by the city, 'n' his office is in th' town hall. I'll take ye right t' him; I know him, 'n' he'll fix ye up. G'lang, Kate!" "I didn't tell the folks I was coming away," said Roger, "so I hope we'll be back before very late. I wouldn't like them to be worried on my account." "We'll git back all right," answered Mr. Took. "'Long 'bout haf-past eight er nine o'clock. Bert's folks won't miss ye 'til then, 'specially as boys is allers traipsin' off sommers er other." "I guess nine o'clock will not be too late," said Roger. "Would you mind, Mr. Took," the boy went on, "not speaking about this trip to people in Cardiff? You see I want to surprise my uncle, and I don't want him to know anything about what I am doing. There's nothing wrong in it, though." Mr. Took promised readily enough, as he knew he could trust the boy, and he did not ask any questions, for which Roger was grateful. They were well on their journey now, driving along the pleasant valley road in the sunshine. It yet lacked considerable of noon, but Roger began to feel hungry, for, in the excitement, he had not eaten much breakfast. Mr. Took seemed to know this, and with a good-natured smile, he reached under the seat and pulled out a pail. "My wife allers puts this snack up for me when I go t' th' city," he said. "Here, help yerself," and he extended the pail filled with crisp, brown doughnuts and some cream cheese. Roger did full justice to Mrs. Took's excellent cooking, and, when he had finished the fifth cake he felt much better. Nor had Mr. Took been a whit behind him in disposing of the toothsome fried cakes. "They're fine," was Roger's verdict. "Allers make me thirsty," commented Mr. Took, "but I know where I kin git a drink." He shook the reins, and Kate trotted on. "Whoa up!" shouted Enberry, suddenly pulling the mare in. "Here we be." Beside the road was a hollowed-out tree trunk, moss lined, filled to the edges and running over with clear, cool, sparkling water, that flowed and bubbled into the trough from a wooden pipe, made from a hollow log, which extended back to the spring. There was a dried yellow gourd for a dipper, and Mr. Took and Roger drank their fill, while Kate stuck her nose deep into the liquid, and sucked it up with queer little noises.