"Yes, yes; I understand," Ralph replied in a shaky voice. "It's mighty good of you all to take so much trouble."
"Tush! 'Taint no trouble, lad! Why, anybody wouldn't refuse to do sech a small favor for your ma. Even Bill Terrill—-he dropped in at your place to-day—-even that cuss offered to go out and find you \ when he heard the news from her."
"Terrill! What was he doing at the farm to-day?"
"He drove over with ol' Si Perkins and two other wise guys, to get permission from your ma to———"
"Oh, I know! I know what they want!" exclaimed Ralph. "The mean, cowardly sneaks! They shan't bully mother into letting them survey our land, on the faked excuse that the survey dad had made isn't correct."
"What 'ud they want to do that for?" queried Tom.
"Because Perkins wants to annex a piece of our property, sink a shaft in it, and see if the ground promises to yield any iron. He claims that the piece he wants, which is our northeast corner three-acre, really belongs to him."
"Can't the dispute be settled by law?" Tom asked, in surprise.
"It was—-once. But now the old grafter has dug up some technicality."
"And you've got to fight him, eh?" said Tom. "Well, go to it, lad!
Go to it! I'll stand by you!"