The Rover Boys in the Land of Luck Part 35

Around Columbina the walking was anything but good. But presently they found themselves on a country road which had not been cut up by a steady stream of wagons and automobiles, and here they found going better.

They had covered about two miles when they came to a bend in the road, and there Andy called a halt.

"I've got something in my shoe. Wait till I take it off," he said, and sat down on a rock.

They were all resting when they saw an automobile truck rumble past them. There were three men on the front seat, and the lads were very much surprised to see that two of them were Jake Tate and the man called Jackson.

CHAPTER XXII

AMONG THE OIL WELLS

"Did you see those fellows?" exclaimed Randy, after the automobile truck had rumbled out of sight.

"I did," answered Jack. "They were Tate and Jackson."

"Can they be going up to the Lorimer Spell claim?" exclaimed Fred.

"It's possible."

"I don't think they saw us," put in Andy, lacing up his shoe again.

"No, they didn't seem to look this way at all. And, anyhow, they were too busy talking to notice," answered Jack.

The four Rovers continued on their way, following the automobile.

Occasionally they met other automobiles, as well as wagons, some piled high with oil-drilling machinery. Then they came to a place where a pipe line was being constructed.

"We are certainly in the oil fields," announced Jack. "See all the derricks in the distance?"

Being-good walkers, it did not take the boys long to reach the Spell tract of land. To make sure that they had found the right spot, they asked an old teamster who was at the roadside mending a harness.

"Yes, that's Lorimer Spell's ground--or at least it was his ground before he was killed. There is the old shack just as he left it."

The boys walked over to the house, which stood among some low bushes. It was a dilapidated structure, and had evidently been out of repair for several years. Most of the windows were gone, and the front door stood wide open. As was to be expected, the four rooms the house contained were empty save for some straw on the floor and a pile of half-burnt sticks on the open hearth.

"Some thieves must have come along and taken whatever there was of furniture," observed Jack.

"Yes, and somebody has been using it for a place to bunk in," added Fred. "But I don't believe they have been here within the last few days," he added, with a look at the ashes on the hearth.

From the house the boys proceeded to look around the farm, or ranch, if such it might be called. It was irregular in shape, one corner running over a hill and down towards a small brook. Here, to their surprise, they saw a pile of oil-drilling machinery, and a number of posts had been set up. On one of the posts was a placard reading:

_The Carson Davenport Claim. Keep off._

"What do you know about this!" cried Jack, his eyes blazing.

"Let's knock the sign down," suggested Fred quickly.

"No, we won't do that--at least not yet, Fred. We'll wait until my father comes with those papers from Wichita Falls."

In the soft soil they could see numerous tracks of automobiles and wagons which had pa.s.sed that way. One of these tracks was fresh.

"I'll bet that auto with Tate and Jackson was here just before we came!"

cried Randy. "Those fellows are certainly on the job. They probably believe that 'possession is nine points of the law.'"

"And it may be down here," said Jack, his face clouding. "The authorities haven't things under their control in a wild country like this as they have in and around the big cities."

There were no oil wells near the Spell tract, and to get to the nearest the lads had to tramp over another hill, a distance of more than a quarter of a mile. Here they found several wells in operation, the combined flow of which, they were told, amounted to about four hundred barrels per day.

"Not so bad, when you consider this oil is worth about two dollars and a half a barrel," remarked Jack.

"That makes a thousand dollars a day," returned Fred. "Gee, just think of taking in that much every twenty-four hours!"

The boys were told that another well was to be shot off that afternoon.

This was located about half a mile away, and they resolved to visit the place, first, however, stopping by the roadside for lunch. They were told where they could get a drink of water.

"Phew! how it smells of oil," remarked Randy, turning up his nose at the dose.

"I guess we'll get our fill of oil before we get through, Randy,"

laughed Jack. "Some of these neighborhoods are saturated with oil from end to end. The houses and barns are full of it, and so are the roads, and they tell me even the things in the dining-rooms and bedrooms smell of oil."

"And just see how black the stuff is," declared Fred. "It doesn't look one bit like the oil we are used to using. It certainly needs a lot of refining."

"And just think of the hundred and one things that come from it," said Jack. "Kerosene and gasoline, and benzine and naphtha and paraffin, and I don't know what all."

The middle of the afternoon found them at the place where the new well was to be brought in--that is, provided everything went well, the the head workman told them, with a grin. He was a good-natured Irishman with body and clothing saturated with oil from head to foot.

"'Tis not a noice way av makin' a livin'," he announced. "But 'tis clane money one gits in his pocket."

"Yes, and you haven't got to stay here forever," answered Jack, with a smile. "After you've made your pile you can go to some place more agreeable."

"Sure, an' that's true, Son, so 'tis," said the foreman.

He explained to them how the well had been drilled and how the charges had been lowered. They had tested out the well at eighteen hundred feet, but without success. Now they were down twenty-six hundred feet, and the indications for oil were decidedly good.

At length came the moment for shooting off the well. Some of the woodwork surrounding the derrick had been removed, and all the electric connections were p.r.o.nounced in good working order. Then the boys and the others who had a.s.sembled were ordered back to a safe distance.

It was a thrilling moment, and no one felt it more than the four Rovers.

They waited a few minutes, and then came a dull rumble, shaking the ground as if by an earthquake. Then they saw something shoot skyward, and then came a sudden rain of black oil, flying and spattering in all directions.

"They've struck it! They've struck it!" yelled Andy excitedly. "They've struck oil!"

"Gee, but I'll bet that makes them feel good," announced Fred. "That well must have cost a lot of money."

"Forty thousand dollars, the foreman said," came from Jack. "Come on, let us get back unless we want our clothing ruined." For the wind was shifting and sending a fine spray of oil in their direction.