Bill, the lineman, wondering where he came from, how he
happened to be what he was, who and what sort were the friends he made,
and the nature of his ambitions, if he had any. Talk about going to the
North Pole! It is not to be compared, for downright fascination, with
the exploration of an undiscovered human being.

With that I began to think how I might get at Bill, the lineman, and not
merely weather talk, or wages talk, or work talk, but at Bill himself.
He was a character quite unusual in our daily lives here in the country.
I wondered what his interests could be, surely not mine nor Horace's nor
the Starkweathers'. As soon as I began trying to visualize what his life
might be, I warmed up to a grand scheme of capturing him, if by chance
he was to be found the next day upon the town road.

All this may seem rather absurd in the telling, but I found it a
downright good adventure for a quiet evening, and fully believe I felt
for the moment like General Joffre planning to meet the Germans on the
Marne.

"I have it!" I said aloud.

"You have what?" asked Harriet, somewhat startled.

"The grandest piece of strategy ever devised in this town," said I.

With that I went delving in a volume of universal information I keep
near me, one of those knowing books that tells you how tall the great
Pryamid is and why a hen cackles after laying an egg, and having found
what I wanted I asked Harriet if she could find a tape measure around
the place. She is a wonderful person and knows where everything is. When
she handed me the tape measure she asked me what in the world I was so
mysterious about.

"Harriet," I said, "I'm going on a great adventure. I'll tell you all
about it to-morrow."

"Nonsense," said Harriet.

It is this way with the fancies of the evening--they often look flat and
flabby and gray the next morning. Quite impossible! But if I'd acted on
half the good and grand schemes I've had o' nights I might now be quite
a remarkable person.

I went about my work the next morning just as usual. I even avoided
looking at the little roll of tape on the corner of the mantel as I went
out. It seemed a kind of badge of my absurdity. But about the middle of
the fore-noon, while I was in my garden, I heard a tremendous racket up
the road. Rattle--bang, zip, toot! As I looked up I saw the boss
lineman and his crew careering up the road in their truck, and the bold
driver was driving like Jehu, the son of Nimshi. And there