Keith, meantime, was busy poring over plats and verifying lines.
The old squire came to town a morning or two later. "I see Mr. Wickersham's struck coal at last," he said to Keith, after he had got his pipe lit. His face showed that he was brimming with information.
"Yes--our coal." Keith showed him the plats. "He is over our line--I do not know just where, but in here somewhere."
The old fellow put on his spectacles and looked long and carefully.
"He says he owns it all; that he'll have us suin' for pardon?"
"Suing for damages."
The old squire gave a chuckle of satisfaction. "He is in and about there." He pointed with a stout and horny finger.
"How did you know?"
"Well, you see, little Dave Dennison--you remember Dave? You taught him."
"Perfectly--I mean, I remember him perfectly. He is now in New York."