It was not long before these operations attracted the attention of the farmer, who came out and wanted to know what the strangers were doing. He was informed that they were civil engineers, and were laying out the line for the new road to Butler.
“But you ain’t going to make that ’ere railroad run through my land, be you?”
“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.