The man with the lantern had an engineer’s signal pole. He was followed by an axeman with stakes. They went ahead some fifty feet, and, with pole and lantern, under the direction of the transitman back in the darkness, located a point and drove a stake.
It did not take Dannie long to comprehend that this was another surveying party, making a night survey through the gap. It was a strange thing to do—very strange. He could not understand the purpose of it at all. Did these people know of the afternoon survey? Did they know of his night work of destruction? And if they did, would they make him suffer for it? The situation was as uncomfortable for Dannie as it was mysterious. But he had scant time to revolve these questions in his mind before the transitman and his attendant came hurrying down to where the boy was standing.
A tall, fine-looking fellow this transitman was; but the moonlight, or possibly excitement or fatigue, threw a pallor across his face, and in his penetrating eyes there was a look of anxiety or trouble.
“How is this, my boy?” he said. “What are you doing here? Tell me quickly. I haven’t time to parley.”
But Dannie had no mind to give him the desired information.
He had grown suddenly fearful of the consequences of his deed of destruction. He was not untruthful about it, though.
“I had rather not tell you, sir,” he replied frankly.
“Very well, I shall not oblige you to,” said the man. “But, under these circumstances, I will have to detain you. Morris,” addressing the head chainman, “keep this boy with you. Don’t let him give any signals, and don’t let him escape. We’ll dispose of him later. Too much depends on this night’s work to take any risks with strangers. Come along, James!”
He shouldered his transit, and, followed by his attendant, started rapidly ahead. Dannie, under the eye of the head chainman, walked on down the road. The axemen had already gone forward to clear the way, and the rodman and leveller were following close behind.