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Updated: June 17, 2025
"Rutter didn't say anything about this to me," Tom muttered to himself. "He put this upon me, to see how I'd get over an obstacle like an unfordable pond. Well, it's going to take a lot of time but I'll show Mr. Jack Rutter!" Accordingly, Reade allowed his chainmen to proceed measuring until they were fairly close to the pond. Then he went forward to the metal stake that had just been driven.
"Engineer Rutter," called Blaisdell, "your two assistants are ready. Get your two sets of chainmen and make a flying start." Animated by the spirit of activity that pervaded the camp, Tom and Harry ran to select their instruments, while Rutter hastened after his chainmen. Bad Pete had not appeared at either mess this morning.
From the time that they parted in the morning, until they started to go back to camp in the afternoon, Tom and Harry did not meet the next day. Each, with his chainmen, was served from Bob's burro train at noon. "Did you see Bad Pete today?" was Harry's greeting, as they Started back over the trail. "No." "Did you hear from him or of him in any way?" pressed Hazelton.
"You won't poison yourself, Hazelton," replied Rutter quickly, as one of the chainmen came near with the recaptured pony. "Snake venom isn't deadly in the stomach -only when it gets into the blood direct. There's no danger unless you've a cut or a deep scratch in your mouth. Spit the stuff out as you draw."
Having given these directions, Jack Rutter turned, with the help of one of the chainmen to fasten a blanket behind the saddle to make a sort of extra saddle. The blanket had been lying rolled at the back of the saddle. Harry, in the meantime, without flinching, performed his task well.
And the kind of people that come to settle in a country like this don't stick in sight of the cars. They're like me need lots of elbow room. There'll be hardy souls looking for a location up where we are before very long. You'll see." They passed other crews of men, surveyors with transits, chainmen, stake drivers, ax gangs widening the path through the timber.
Tom waited to get from the chainmen the distance to the edge of the wood. They came on the heels of the axemen, and all capered on their snow-shoes to see so long a space free from cutting.
Not very long after Harry Hazelton reached camp, well in advance of the chainmen, for Harry, good school athlete that he was, had jog-trotted every step of the way in. "Where's Tom?" Hazelton demanded. "Here," called a voice from Reade's tent. Hazelton turned in that direction, but Mr. Thurston looked out from the large tent, calling: "Don't go there now, Hazelton. You wouldn't be admitted.
Rutter, like a good chief, saw to it that his two assistants and the chainmen were started on their meal ere he himself began. In half an hour every morsel of food and the final drop of coffee had disappeared. "Twenty minutes to loaf," advised Rutter, throwing himself on the ground and closing his eyes. "I'll take a nap. You'd better follow my example." "Then who'll call us?" asked Tom.
"You'll find a similar nail head in every stake. The exact point of the plummet of your bog-line must centre on the middle of that nail head. You can't be too exact about that, remember." Turning to one of the chainmen, Rutter added: "Jansen, take a rod and hustle along to the next stake." "Yes, sir," answered the man, and started on a run. Nor did he pause until he had located the stake.
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