The Rover Boys in the Land of Luck: or, Stirring Adventures in the Oil Fields

"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 pronounced in good working order. Then the boys and the others who had assembled 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.

It was hard work to control the flow of oil, and the men around the new well had to work like Trojans. The black mass was flowing off in a depression of the ground which had been dammed around to receive it.

"It certainly is a great proceeding," was Fred's comment, when they finally turned away and started on their return to Columbina. "I don't wonder that those men get interested. It certainly is the greatest gamble of the age. One minute you have nothing, and the next, if you are lucky, the oil is pouring thousands of dollars into your pocket every week."

"It's the land of luck, all right enough," answered Fred.

"And you mustn't forget one thing," added Jack. "There are just as many failures as there are successes. There have been millions and millions of dollars sunk in Texas, Oklahoma and Kansas, and some promoters haven't got even a smell of oil for their money."

When the lads returned to the hotel they found that several letters had come in for them. One was from Jack's sister, and this he read with interest, and then passed it around to his cousins to peruse.

In her letter Martha wrote that she had heard from Ruth Stevenson's mother, who stated that Ruth's eyes were not in as good shape as the local doctor had hoped for and he had advised that a specialist be consulted.

"Gee, that's the worst yet!" said Jack, and his face showed his concern. "Poor Ruth! I do hope she comes out of it all right, and that very soon."

Both Jack and the others would have been more concerned had they known the truth, which was that Ruth had already been placed in the care of an eye specialist and been removed to that physician's private sanitarium. Pressed to tell the exact truth by Mr. Stevenson, the specialist had admitted that Ruth's eyes had suffered exceedingly, and that she was in danger of losing the sight of one of them and that that might possibly affect the other. As Mrs. Stevenson was very nervous already, the doctor had advised her husband to keep the truth to himself for the present and hope for the best.

Among the other letters received was one forwarded by Mary to her brother Fred. This was from Gif Garrison, and in the communication Gif told how he had heard in a roundabout way of Nappy and Slugger.

"It seems that there was once a man named Davenport in business with Mr. Martell," wrote Gif. "This Davenport is now down in the oil fields of Texas, and he has agreed, so I understand, to give Nappy and Slugger a chance to work for a company he has formed. So they are likely down there, and maybe you will meet them. They also say that Glutts and Werner used to correspond with Nappy and Slugger, so that it is just possible they will go down there too."

"Well, Glutts isn't here," said Fred, with a grin. "I guess that mix-up in New York was too much for him."

"If those fellows want to work for Carson Davenport they can do so," said Jack. "But they've got to keep their distance – Werner especially."

Late that evening there came a telegram for Jack. It was from his father, announcing the fact that he would have to remain in Wichita Falls for a day or two.

"Perhaps he's got to fix up some legal matters in connection with this Spell claim," suggested Fred.

There was not much to interest the boys around Columbina, and the next day hung rather heavily on their hands. They visited the general stores and also walked over to the depot and watched two of the trains come in. They saw Carson Davenport alight from one and hurry away as rapidly as possible, carrying a Gladstone bag with him.

"Hello! I wonder if he has been to Wichita Falls too," cried Jack.

"He certainly came from that direction," answered Fred. "But you must remember there are lots of other towns along the line."

The following afternoon found the four boys on a highway leading from Columbina to Derrickville. They had fallen in with an old oil prospector who knew Nick Ogilvie well, and this prospector had offered to take them over to Derrickville in his five-passenger touring-car.

"It's a great sight around Derrickville," said the man. "There are hundreds of oil wells in that vicinity. It's about the busiest place for miles around."

Warned by their previous experience, the boys had purchased some overalls and plain caps, and these they donned to protect their other clothing. They found the road to Derrickville deep in mud, and more than once it looked as if the car in which they were riding would get stuck. But Mr. Bradley was a good driver, and always managed somehow to get through.

"It ain't like driving on Broadway," he grinned, "but we've got to make the best of it."

Two hours later found the Rovers in Derrickville. They were left to shift for themselves, Mr. Bradley stating he would take them back to Columbina at five o'clock. They visited a dozen wells or more, and also the pumping station connected with a large pipe line, and then walked over to where the drilling of some new wells was in progress.

"Look!" shouted Fred suddenly. "Look! Am I mistaken, or is that Phil Franklin over there?"

He pointed to a distance, and then he and the others hurried to the spot. There, looking at the work which was going on around a new well, were the man and the boy they had once rescued from the freshet on the Rick Rack River.

CHAPTER XXIII

A QUEER SUMMONS

"Am I seeing straight, and is it really the Rovers?" exclaimed John Franklin, when confronted by the boys.

"You are seeing straight enough, Mr. Franklin," answered Fred, as he shook hands first with the father and then the son. "Is your claim around here?"

"No, our claim is some miles from here," answered John Franklin. "It's at a place called Pottown."

"I've heard of that place," said Jack, as he too shook hands, as did the others. "They say there are quite a few oil wells in that neighborhood."

"What have you done about your claim, if I may ask?" questioned Randy.

"Oh, I've got myself all straightened out," said Mr. Franklin, with a broad smile. "You see, when I got down here I played in luck right from the start. Those swindlers had got tired of trying to do something on my farm, and then I ran into an old friend of mine who was a lawyer. He took the matter up for me, and the swindlers got scared and all of them quit the claim over night; so I am now in sole possession."

"And have you struck oil?" asked Jack.

"No, I haven't got that far yet, but I have great hopes of going ahead. You see, I'm handicapped for money. I could get some capitalists interested, but they generally want the lion's share of the proceeds, and that I don't want to give them."

"I don't blame you," said Fred. "You ought to get the most of the money if the oil is found on your land."

"I'm telling dad to take his time," put in Phil Franklin. "The land won't run away, and the more oil wells that are producing around us, the more valuable our place will become."

"But what brought you young fellows down here?" questioned the man. "Are you on a sightseeing tour?"

"Not altogether," answered Jack. "My father is interested in a claim down here, and he allowed us to come along with him." And thereupon he gave some of the particulars.

John Franklin listened attentively to the story, and his eyes flashed angrily when the names of Tate and Jackson were mentioned.

"Those are the swindlers who were trying to do me out of my property!" he ejaculated. "And I'm of the opinion this Carson Davenport was in with them. They are a bunch of crooks, and nothing else. They ought all to be in prison."

"Well, they'll land there sooner or later if they don't look out," returned Fred.

"If I was your father I would have nothing to do with this Davenport or the men acting with him," went on Mr. Franklin to Jack.

"Do you know anything at all about the Lorimer Spell claim?"

"I don't know anything about what has happened lately so far as that claim is concerned," was John Franklin's reply. "But I do know when oil was first discovered in this region some of the experts went over the whole territory carefully and they did not consider the Spell claim as being of any value. That's the reason no wells were located there. They claimed that the geological formation was not good for oil."

"Oh! then you mean to say there is no oil on that claim?" questioned Fred disappointedly.

"I don't know anything about it, lad. I am only telling you what the experts said. Those fellows miss it once in a while, just the same as other people. At the same time, if an expert doesn't think ground is worth drilling for oil, you can make up your mind that the chances of striking it rich there are very slim."

"But are you sure the experts went over it very carefully?" questioned Andy.

"I am."

"And who were they?"

"They were from Wichita Falls – a firm by the name of Fitch and Lunberry."

"Then probably if my father wanted it he could get a report from Fitch and Lunberry," said Jack.

"I think he could – provided, of course, he was willing to pay for it. These experts don't work for nothing!" and John Franklin grinned.

"If you stay down here any length of time I wish you'd come over to our place and see us," said Phil Franklin.

"We'll be sure to do that," answered Randy.

"Maybe I can get your uncle interested in my land," suggested Mr. Franklin. "I wish he'd look it over. It wouldn't cost him anything."

"I'll speak to dad about it," answered Jack quickly. There was something about the Franklins which had pleased him ever since he had first known them. They appeared to be perfectly honest and reliable.

Accompanied by the Franklins, the Rovers tramped around the various oil wells located in and near Derrickville. Mr. Franklin understood a great deal about the wells and the machinery, and explained these things in an interesting way, so the afternoon passed quickly. Almost before they knew it the Rovers had to say good-bye and start on the return trip with Mr. Bradley.

"Gee, I wonder if what Mr. Franklin said about the Spell claim can be true!" remarked Jack, on the way to Columbina.

"He ought to know what he is talking about, Jack," answered Fred. "And certainly he had no axe to grind in the matter. He doesn't want to see Uncle Dick throw his money away."

Two more days passed, and still Dick Rover did not return from Wichita Falls. The boys went out sightseeing and amused themselves as best they could, but this was not saying much. The most fun they had was in a shooting-gallery where they astonished the proprietor by the bull's-eyes they made.

"You young fellows are some shots," said he. "You must be used to guns."

"We are," answered Fred.

The four Rovers had gone into the target gallery directly after supper and while it was still light. Now, when they came out, Jack suggested that they return to the hotel.

"We might send out a letter or two," he suggested, "and I'd like to look over a newspaper if I can find one."

The Rovers were heading in the direction of the hotel when, glancing across the street, they saw Nappy Martell and Slugger Brown.

"They seem to be watching us," declared Jack.

"Probably they'd like to know what we intend to do," answered Randy. "I think we might as well ignore them," he went on, as he saw Nappy and Slugger crossing the muddy roadway.

"Hello!" called Slugger coolly. "We've been looking for you fellows."

"Looking for us!" exclaimed Fred.

"Yes, we found out you were not at the hotel, and so we thought you must be somewhere around town."

"What do you want of us?" demanded Jack suspiciously.

"We came to see you on Gabe Werner's account," answered Nappy. As he spoke he showed that he was nervous.

"On Gabe Werner's account! What do you mean?"

"I guess you had better ask Gabe about that," answered Slugger. "He's very anxious to see all of you – wants to see you this evening, too."

"Where is he?"

"We left him at a house up on the Derrickville road. It's about half a mile or so out of town," answered Slugger.

"Is he sick?" questioned Fred.

"He's worse than that – he's down and out," answered Nappy. "But he said to tell all of you that he wanted to see you this evening sure – that to-morrow morning wouldn't do."

"See here, Nappy, is this some sort of trick?" demanded Jack bluntly. "If it is, I want to tell you right now it won't work."

"It's no trick. How could it be? We are all alone, and we're not armed. We are doing this solely because Gabe Werner asked us to do it. He couldn't come himself, not with a broken leg."

"Oh, then he has broken his leg, has he?" said Andy, with something of sympathy in his voice. "That, of course, is another matter." He turned to the others. "I'm willing to go and see him if you are."

"All right, let's go," put in Fred.

"We'll go," said Jack, after a few whispered words to Randy. "But you remember what I said, both of you. If this is a trick we'll see to it that you get the worst of it."

"You'll find out that it's no trick as soon as you get to the house," declared Slugger Brown.

He and Nappy Martell led the way, and soon the whole crowd had left Columbina behind and were trudging along the muddy road leading to Derrickville. The way was dark and anything but inviting, and all of them made slow progress.

"The house is over there in the field," said Slugger presently, as he came to a halt. "You needn't be afraid, because there are only a very old man and a woman living there. Gabe Werner has been boarding with them since he came down here."

"Are you fellows working for Carson Davenport?" questioned Randy.

"We expect to work for him, yes. But nothing has been settled as yet," answered Nappy. "He has offered us thirty dollars a week, but we think we can get more than that elsewhere," he added loftily.

"And what of Werner? Is he going to work with you?"

"That was the idea," answered Slugger. "But I don't know what he'll do now. He's certainly in bad shape."

"How did he get his leg broken?"

"He didn't tell us a word about it," answered Nappy. "There is something queer about the whole transaction. But he said he must see all of you Rovers and do it to-night. What he's got on his mind, I don't know."

The Rovers hardly knew what to do. They were unarmed, and the place certainly looked like a lonely one. They wondered if it would be possible for Carson Davenport and his crowd to be at the house waiting for them.

"You and Slugger go ahead," Jack said. "We'll follow behind. And mark you, no tricks!"

"There is nothing to be afraid of," Slugger assured him. And then he and Nappy stalked off in the fast-gathering darkness. They walked up to the lonely house, and disappeared around a corner of the building.

"Say, Jack, this doesn't look right to me at all," announced Fred. "I wish I had a pistol."

"I'm going to arm myself with a club," said Randy, and looked around for such a weapon.

The others did the same, two of them picking up sticks and the others arming themselves with stones. Then they advanced with caution, keeping their eyes wide open for the appearance of anything that might look dangerous.

"I don't see any light around the place," announced Jack, as they drew closer.

"I wonder what became of Nappy and Slugger?" broke in Fred. "I don't see them anywhere."

"Suppose we call them," suggested Andy.

"Let us walk around the house first," returned his twin. "They may have gone in by the back way. Most of the folks living around here use the back door for everything."

With added caution the Rover boys walked slowly around one side of the building. In the rear they found everything as dark and deserted as in the front.

"This is certainly strange," announced Jack. He advanced and knocked sharply on the closed door.

There was no reply, and he knocked a second time. Then Randy beat upon the door with his stick.

"It looks to me as if there wasn't a soul in the place," announced Andy. "I wonder what has become of Nappy and Slugger?"

"See here, will you?" cried Fred suddenly. "It looks to me as if nobody lived here. Every one of the windows is boarded up on the inside. I believe this house is being used for nothing but a storehouse. I don't believe a soul lives here."

"Hello, Nappy! Hello, Slugger!" called out Jack loudly. "Where are you?"

To this call there was no reply.

CHAPTER XXIV

DICK ROVER'S REVELATION

"We've been tricked!" exclaimed Randy.

"Just what I think!" burst out Fred. "They didn't bring us here to see Gabe Werner at all!"

"There isn't a soul around the building, that's certain," remarked Andy. "What do you suppose has become of Nappy and Slugger?"

The Rovers looked around in the fast-gathering darkness, but could see no one. Then they walked around the building several times, peering in all directions for a sight of the fellows who had brought them on this strange mission.

"It's a storehouse, right enough," announced Jack. "And my opinion is that everything is nailed up except the front door, and that, as you can see, has a padlock on it."

It was certainly a mystery, and for the time being the Rover boys were unable to solve it. Looking down on the ground, they saw a number of footprints, but it was now too dark to follow any of these.

"Wish we had brought a pocket flashlight along," remarked Fred.

"It's getting as dark as a stack of black cats," said Andy.

"Yes, and we had better be getting back to town before it gets so dark we lose our way," returned Jack.

As it was, they had some difficulty in finding the path down to the road. Then they stumbled along in the darkness, occasionally heading into some mud hole up to their ankles.

"Nappy and Slugger certainly have the laugh on us for this," said Fred, as they plowed along. "Maybe they thought we would lose our way completely in this darkness."

It was a good half-hour before the Rovers reached the outskirts of Columbina. At a great distance they could see many twinkling electric lights, one of which hung on the top of every oil derrick. But these were so far off they did nothing towards illuminating the way.

"Almost ten o'clock," announced Jack, consulting his watch. "About all we can do is to clean the mud from our shoes and go to bed."

There was a sleepy young clerk behind the counter of the hotel, and he showed them where they could clean up.

"No bootblacks in Columbina," said Randy, with a grin. And then all set to work with a whisk broom and brushes to clean up.

"I wonder if Uncle Dick will get in to-night," remarked Fred. The last train to stop at Columbina was due in fifteen minutes.

"I think I'll stay up and find out," said Jack.

"You waiting for Mr. Rover?" demanded the boy behind the counter, as he yawned and stretched himself. "If you are, he came in a couple of hours ago."

"Is that so!" cried Jack, in surprise. "Where is he now?"

"I think he's up in his room, although I'm not sure. You see, I was out to a dance last night, and I'm pretty tired, and I fell asleep a couple of times sitting here doing nothing. Somehow or other, it seems to be an off night around this hotel. Nothing doing at all," and the sleepy clerk yawned again.

"Maybe he's up in his room looking over those papers he brought," suggested Randy. "Come on up and see."

All mounted the stairs to the third floor of the hotel. When they reached the room occupied by Dick Rover they found the door locked, and a rap upon it brought no response.

"He isn't here, that's sure," said Jack. "Maybe he went out on an errand."

"Unless he's in our room," said Fred. In the larger apartment which the four boys occupied there was a small table, and Jack's father had several times come in to use this for writing purposes.

Jack had one of the keys to the room, and, stepping across the hallway, he attempted to insert this in the lock. Much to his surprise, the key would not go into the keyhole.

"That is strange – " he began, and then tried the door, to find it unlocked. Another key was on the inside.

The room was pitch dark, only a dim lamp being lighted in the rear of the long hallway. Jack stepped forward to get a match from a bureau, and as he did so he stumbled over something on the floor and pitched headlong.

"Oh!" he gasped, and then gave a sudden shudder, for he had felt the body of someone beside him. "Be careful," he went on. "Make a light, quick! Here is someone on the floor! I'm afraid it's dad!"

The others piled into the room, and Randy, who happened to have some matches in his pocket, struck a light and lit the lamp.

There, on the floor of the bedroom, lay Dick Rover. There was a small cut on his left temple from which the blood was flowing. He was breathing heavily, and evidently trying to speak.