The surveyor, observing the expression upon his face, surmised its meaning, and his eyes twinkled.
"Catch on?" he drawled.
"But where do I come in?" Abner questioned.
"Oh, you're in already."
"Like the toad in the swill-pail, it seems to me. Not there by choice. But what am I to git out of it? That's what I want to know."
"Get out of it! Why, man, you'll be lucky to get out of it alive, same as the toad."
"I will, eh? An' why?"
"Simply because you've allowed that hill of gravel to remain there to endanger the world. That's about the first thing they'll tell you, and they'll put up such a big talk that you'll be glad to pay out your bottom dollar to help them take the gravel away."
"De ye think I'm a fool?" Abner roared, and again his eyes blazed.
"Not exactly, though you acted like one a few minutes ago. But I imagine you'll feel like one when that government bunch gets after you. They're past masters at the art of getting what they want. They will come here in autos, parade around the place, puff their expensive cigars, and hand out such talk that you'll feel small enough to crawl through a rat-hole. Oh, I've seen such cases before, and I know just what they'll do."