n the whole outfit.

"Two miles in fifty-two minutes!" shouts Mr. Hobart to his men, as the
stake that marks the end of ten thousand five hundred and sixty feet is
driven. "Boys, we must do better than that."

"Ay, ay, sir! We will!" shout the "bald heads," as they spring to the
places the first-division men are just leaving.

Mr. Hobart, Glen, and a mounted axeman are already galloping to the
front. They dash across a shallow valley, lying between two great swells
of the prairie, and mount the gentle slope on its farther side, a mile
away. It is a long transit sight; but "Billy" Brackett can take it.

The boy who rides beside the division engineer is very proud of his new
position, and sits his spirited mare like a young lancer. The slender,
steel-shod, red-and-white staff of his flag-pole, bearing its gay
pennon, that Glen has cut a little longer than the others, and nicked
with a swallow-tail, looks not unlike a lance. As the cool morning air
whistles past him, the boy's blood tingles, his eyes sparkle, and he
wonders if there can be any more fascinating business in the world than
surveying and learning to become an engineer. He thinks of the mill and
the store with scorn. It beats them away out of sight, anyhow.

As they reach the crest of the divide, from which they can see far away
on all sides, Mr. Hobart, using his field-glass to watch the movements
of "Billy" Brackett's arms, directs Glen where to place his flag.
"Right--more--more--away over to the right--there--steady! Left, a
little--steady--so! Drive a stake there! Now hold your flag on it! A
trifle to the right--that's good! Drive the tack! Move him up--all
right, he's coming!" Then, leaving the axeman to point out the stake,
just driven, to the transit-man, the engineer and his young flagman
again dash forward.

"Two miles in thirty-eight minutes! That is quick work! I congratulate
you and your division, Mr. Hobart." So said the chief-engineer as the
men of the second division, dripping with perspiration, completed their
first run, and, turning the work over to those of the third, took their
vacant places in the wagon that followed the line.

The morning sun was already glowing with heat, and by noon its
perpendicular rays were scorching the arid plain with relentless fury.
Men and animals alike drooped beneath it, but there was no pause in the
work. It must be rushed through in spite of everything. About noon they
passed a large buffalo wallow, ha