His farm was a very old one and extensive, and of recent years a large settlement of small farmers had been developing the rougher lands in the upper part of the townships called the Swan Hill district.

Their only way to reach the railroad was by a rocky, winding road among the 'hills,' while their outlet was down a gently sloping valley through Old Toombs's farm.

They were now so numerous and politically important that they had stirred up the town authorities.

A proposition had been made to Old Toombs for a right-of-way; they argued with him that it was a good thing for the whole country, that it would enhance the values of his own upper lands, and that they would pay him far more for a right-of-way than the land was actually worth, but he had spurned them--I can imagine with what vehemence.
"Let 'em drive round," he said.

"Didn't they know what they'd have to do when they settled up there?
What a passel o' curs! They can keep off o' my land, or I'll have the law on 'em." And thus the matter came to the courts with the town attempting to condemn the land for a road through Old Toombs's farm.
"What can we do ?" asked the Scotch Preacher, who was deeply distressed by the bitterness of feeling displayed.