moment the dog stretched his great mouth open, with a formidable
yawn. Panic seized the "young uns," and they scampered; their bare legs
and exceedingly scanty attire (only three shirts and a half to four
little barbarians) seeming to offer the dog unusual facilities, had he
chosen to regard them as soap-grease and to regale himself on that sort
of diet. But he was too well-bred and good-natured an animal to think of
snapping up a little Wiggett or two for his luncheon; and the fugitives,
having first run under the bed and looked out, ventured back to the
door, and peeped with scared faces from behind their mother's gown.

To hide his laughter, the young fellow stood patting and stroking his
horse's neck until Sal returned with her "pap."

"Mr. Wiggett?" inquired the youth, seeing a tall, spare, rough old man
approach.

"That's my name, stranger. What can I dew for ye to-day?"

"I've come to see what I can do for _you_, Mr. Wiggett. I believe you
want your section corner looked up."

"That I dew, stranger. But I 'lowed 't would take a land-surveyor for
that."

"I am a land-surveyor," said the young fellow, with a modest smile.

"A land-surveyor? Why, you're noth'n' but a boy!" And the tall old man,
bending a little, and knitting his gray eyebrows, looked down upon his
visitor with a sort of amused curiosity.

"That's so," replied the "boy," with a laugh and a blush. "But I think I
can find your corner, if the bearings are all right."

"Whur's your instruments?" asked the old man, leaning over the buggy.
"Them all? What's that gun to do with land-surveyin'?"

"Nothing; I brought that along, thinking I might get a shot at a rabbit
or a prairie hen. But we shall need an axe and a shovel."

"I 'lowed your boss would come himself, in place of sendin' a boy!"
muttered the old man, taking up the gun,--a light double-barrelled
fowling-piece,--sighting across it with an experienced eye, and laying
it down again. "Sal, bring the axe; it's stickin' in the log thar by the
wood-pile. Curi's thing, to lose my section corner, hey?"

"It's not a very uncommon thing," replied the young surveyor.

"Fact is," said the old man, "I never found it I bought of Seth
Parkins's widder arter Seth died, and banged if I've ever been able to
find the gov'ment stake."

"Maybe somebody pulled it up, or broke it off, to kill a rattlesnake
with," suggested the young surveyor.

"Like enough," said the old man. "Can't say 't I blame him;