Preceded by their chainmen, Rutter and Reade trudged along the
trail for something like a mile.

"Halt," ordered Jack Rutter. "Reade, write your autograph on that
stake and begin."

Tom stepped over to the transit, adjusting it carefully and setting
the hanging plummet on dead centre with the nail head in the top
of the short stake.

"Never set up a transit again," directed Rutter, "without making
sure that your levels are absolutely true, and that your vernier
arrangement is in order."

"I don't believe you'll ever catch me at that, Mr. Rutter," Tom
answered, busying himself with the finer adjustments of the transit.
"Mr. Price pounded that into me every time that he took me out
in the field."

"Nevertheless," went on Rutter, "I have known older engineers
than you, Reade, who became careless, and their carelessness cost
their employers a lot of wasted time and money. Now, you-----"

At this juncture Jack Rutter suddenly crouched behind a low ledge
at the right.

"Get behind here, quickly, Reade!" called Rutter. "Bad Pete is
up the hillside, about two hundred yards from you-----"