"Bet 'em, Thad; bet 'em! I'll stake you."
"Oh, we don't want your money; betting doesn't get anywhere and it isn't just square, anyway." Bill was smilingly endeavoring to restore good feeling. "Now, Mr. Hooper, we're not fixed to make a triangulation measurement to-day, but——"
"Not fixed? Of course not. Begins with excuses," sneered Thad.
"But to-morrow we'll bring out Professor Gray's transit and show you the way it's done."
"Oh, yes, Uncle; they'll show us—to-morrow, or next day, or next week.
Bunk!" Thad was plainly trying to be offensive.
"You'll grin on the other side of your hatchet face, fellow, when we do show you," said Gus.
"Now, Gus, cut out the scrapping. You can't blame him, nor Mr. Hooper, for doubting it if they've never looked into the matter. We can bring the transit out this afternoon for taking the levels. Be here after dinner, Mr. Hooper, if you can."
"I'll be here, lads," said the ex-cattle-dealer. "An' I reckon my nephew'll come along, too."