With him was the stout Scotchman, Matheson.
The papers and plats were on a table in his room, and Keith was looking at them.
"How long would it take you to do it ?" asked Mr.Halbrook.He was a short, alert-looking man, with black eyes and a decisive manner.

He always appeared to be in a hurry.
Keith was so absorbed that he did not answer immediately, and the agent repeated the question with a little asperity in his tone.
"I say how long would it take you to run those lines ?" "I don't know," said Keith, doubtfully.

"I see a part of the property lies on the mountain-side just above and next to Squire Rawson's lands.
I could let you know to-morrow." "To-morrow! You people down here always want to put things off.

That is the reason you are so behind the rest of the world.

The stage-driver, however, told me that you were different, and that is the reason I sent for you." Keith straightened himself.