"I think not," said Jack, with a smile. "There isn't much hotel left in Crofield, now. It was burned down last Sunday."
"What?" exclaimed one of the gentlemen in front. "Are you from Crofield?"
"I live there," said Jack. "Your engineer was there about the time of the fire. The old bridge is down. I heard him say that your line would cross just below it."
The three gentlemen were all attention, and the one who had not before spoken said:
"I know. Through the old Hammond property."
"It used to belong to Mr. Hammond," replied Jack, "but it belongs to my father now."
"Can you give me a list of the other owners of property?" asked the railway man with some interest.
"I can tell you who owns every acre around Crofield, boundary lines and all," answered Jack. "I was born there. You don't know about the people, though. They'll do almost anything to have the road there. My father will help all he can. He says the place is dead now."
"What's his name?" asked the first speaker, with a notebook and a pencil in his hand.
"His is John Ogden. Mine's Jack Ogden. My father knows every man in the county," replied Jack.