"Come over to Killingworth, and see my 'Puffing Billy,'" said George; "seeing is believing." And Mr. Pease, as you may suppose, was quite anxious to see a machine that would outride the fleetest horse. Yet he did not need "Puffing Billy" to convince him that its constructor knew what he was advocating, and could make good his pledges. The good Quaker's courage rapidly rose. He took a new start, and the consequence was that all other plans and men were thrown aside, and Stephenson was engaged to put the road through much in his own way.
The first thing to be done was to make an accurate survey of the proposed route. Taking Robert with him, who had just come from college, and entered as heartily into the enterprise as his father, with two other tried men, they began work in good earnest. From daylight till night the surveyors were on duty. One of the men going to Darlington to sleep one night, four miles off.
"Now, you must not start from Darlington at daybreak," said Stephenson, "but be here, ready to begin work, at daybreak." He and Robert used to make their home at the farm-houses along the way, where his good-humour and friendliness made him a great favourite. The children loved him dearly; the dogs wagged their approving tails at his approach; the birds had a delighted listener to their morning songs; and every dumb creature had a kind glance from his friendly eye.
But George was not satisfied until Mr. Pease came to Killingworth to see "Puffing Billy," and become convinced of its economical habits by an examination of the colliery accounts. He promised, therefore, to follow George thither, bringing with him a large capitalist; and over they went in the summer of 1822.
Inquiring for George Stephenson, they were directed to the cottage with a stone dial over the door. George drove his locomotive up, hoisted in the gentlemen, harnessed on a heavy load, and away they went. George no doubt showed "Billy" off to the best advantage. "Billy" performed admirably, and the two wondering passengers went home enthusiastic believers in locomotive power.
A good many things had to be settled by the Darlington project. One was the width of the gauge, that is, the distance between the rails. How wide apart should they be? Stephenson said the space between the cart and waggon wheels of a common road was a good criterion. The tramroads had been laid down by this gauge—four feet and eight inches—and he thought it about right for the railway; so this gauge was adopted.