Bob Hubbard was not one to give up
anything he had once decided upon without a trial,
and when he told Ralph that between them they would
find the oil and sink the well before George recovered,
he intended to do it if it was within the range of
possibilities.
Very many operators in the oil region
looked upon Bob as one of the best prospectors there,
and while they fully understood his reckless manner,
and agreed that it could not be said that he was strictly
truthful, they had the most perfect confidence in
his reports on land.
Therefore, it was no vain boast when
Bob said that if there were good signs of oil on the
Simpson wood-lot, he could easily borrow money enough
to sink a well, for almost any one of the capitalists
of Bradford would have been willing to make the loan
upon his representations.
This wood-lot of Simpson’s had
attracted Bob’s attention some time before,
as the reader already knows, and, despite the assertions
of some oil prospectors to the contrary, he had always
maintained that a good paying well would be found
there.
It had been his intention to buy the
land; but he had neglected to do so, as he was in
the habit of neglecting his own business until it was
too late. But he would be satisfied to prove that
he had been correct in his views by striking oil there,
even if he was opening the property for some one else,
and just then he saw the opportunity of doing a favor
for his friend at the same time that he proved the
truth of his own statements.
On the morning after he had spoken
of his “scheme” to Ralph, he was up some
time before the sun was, even though he had watched
by George’s side until midnight, and was only
waiting for the professional nurse to relieve Ralph
from his duty of watcher, before beginning the work
he had proposed to do.
During the night it had seemed as
if George had recovered consciousness for a few moments,
although he had not spoken, and the physician, who
had remained at the farm-house, was called to the patient’s
side.
This brief revival of consciousness,
to be followed immediately by a fever, was what the
medical man had predicted, and he then said that George
would appear to be very much worse in the morning;
but that it was the turning of the fever which would
show whether he was ever to regain the full possession
of all his faculties.
Therefore, when the morning came,
and George, in a high fever, seemed to be very near
death his friends were much less alarmed for his safety
than they would have been, had the change not been
expected.
It was unfortunate that he could not
have been removed to the Kenniston farm, where he
would have been nearer medical aid in case he should
need it suddenly; but he could not have been taken
where he would have received more tender or devoted
care then he did from Mr. Simpson and his wife.
The only possible aid which either
Ralph or Bob could have given, after they had relieved
the nurse of the care of watching during the night,
would have been in case they were needed to go to town
for anything which the patient might require.
Except for that, they might as well be out prospecting
as remaining at the farm-house.
Therefore, in order that they might
both be away, and feel perfectly at ease, Bob had
arranged with Dick to come over and remain during the
day with Jim, to act as messenger in case there was
any necessity for it.
Bob’s horses were there, and
after breakfast, when Jim had arrived, and the nurse
had resumed her duties, there was really nothing to
prevent them from going where they pleased.
Much as he wanted to go with Bob,
Ralph was uncertain as to whether he should leave
his friend until after he had spoken with the physician
regarding it, and then, learning that he could be of
no possible assistance by remaining, he announced
that he was ready to begin the work of prospecting
again, which had been brought to such a sad end the
day previous.
Bob started out excited by the thought
of what they would accomplish, and so intent upon
his scheme that he rattled on with explanations of
how this or that might be accomplished, until Ralph
began to look upon sinking an oil well as mere child’s
play, and quite convinced that it could easily be
done, even without capital.
Both the boys were satisfied that
there were no signs of oil in such localities as they
had examined the day previous, therefore there was
no occasion for them to do that work over again, and
Bob began his labors by starting through the wood-lot
in an entirely different direction, which brought
them to a small stream, or marsh, which ran directly
across the land.
The water-course, if such it could
be called, was nearly dried up, but Bob showed every
signs of delight at finding it so easily, and said
to Ralph, as he began to wade along its course, regardless
alike of wet feet or mud-plashed clothing:
“Here is where we shall find
the first signs, if there is any oil around here.
Follow me, and sing out when you see any greasy-looking
water in these little pools.”
It is quite probable that Ralph would
have waded in streams which were almost entirely covered
with oil, and yet never have “sung out”
once, for he was at a loss to know how oil-covered
water should look; but before they had traveled twenty
yards, Bob said, excitedly:
“Why don’t you say something?
I thought you would like to be the first one to discover
signs on your own land, so I have held my tongue for
the last five minutes, expecting to hear you shout.”
“But what shall I say?”
asked Ralph, in surprise. “I haven’t
seen any oil yet.”
“Well, you’re a fine prospector,
you are!” and Bob looked at his companion as
if in the most perfect amazement that he did not understand
fully the business which he had had no experience in.
“What do you call that?” and Bob
pointed to the water-pools that were covered with
something which showed different colors, not unlike
a soap-bubble.
“I’ve seen that queer-looking
water for some time,” replied Ralph, innocently;
“but that isn’t oil.”
“You may think so,” said
Bob, with a laugh, “but you let some of these
oil operators from Bradford see that, and then it would
do your heart good to hear them offer you big prices
for the land. That’s oil, my boy, and it
shows up as plain as the nose on your face. We’ll
follow this swale up until we find where the oil ceases,
and then I’ll show you a place where you can
sink a well without a possibility of losing any money
by the operation.”
Ralph was now quite as eager and excited
as his companion was, and the two splashed on through
the mud and water, feeling much as gold-seekers do
when they believe they are following up the leads to
that precious metal.
Up the marshy land they walked until
they were very nearly in the center of the lot, and
then Bob stopped, with a gesture of satisfaction.
At this point the difference in the
water was very marked, the line of oil, as it oozed
out from a little bank, showing clearly, while above
the water was pure.
“There’s one thing certain,”
said Bob, triumphantly, as he stood upon the sponge-like
bank which afforded him so much satisfaction to see.
“Those who have laughed at me because I insisted
that the oil belt extended in this direction would
feel kind of foolish if they could see this, wouldn’t
they?”
“But is it what you might call
a good showing?” asked Ralph, still incredulous
that this land, which they had purchased only through
charity for Mr. Simpson, should prove so valuable.
It seemed to him that Bob must be
mistaken, or those living in the vicinity would have
discovered it some time before.
“Well, I should say it was a
good showing,” cried Bob, excitedly. “Why,
Gurney, there isn’t one well out of twenty that
are sunk which looms up like this. It will yield
a thousand barrels if it yields a pint.”
The only question, then, as to whether
it was really valuable property, it would seem, was
whether it would yield the pint; and, if one could
judge from Bob’s face, there was no doubt about
that.
He was radiantly triumphant - not
that he had discovered the oil, for others had done
that before him, but that his views on the location
of the oil belt had proved correct, and he was determined
that by his efforts the supply should be made to yield,
even though he could have no pecuniary interest in
the matter.
“We’ll sink the well here,
and I’ll begin the work this very afternoon,”
he said. “But first we must go back to the
house, and we’ll mark our way, so that there’ll
be no difficulty about finding the spot again.”
Then Bob started toward the farm-house,
walking rapidly, as if his feet could hardly be made
to keep pace with his thoughts, and breaking off the
tops of the bushes to mark the way.
“But how are you going to work
without money?” asked Ralph, almost doubting
if his companion was quite right in his mind.
“Do you think that a sight of
that place isn’t as good as a big bank account?
Why, we only need about three thousand dollars to do
it all.”
“Three - thousand - dollars!”
echoed Ralph.
“That’s all. You
write to your father, tell him what we have found,
and ask him to send the money right on,” said
Bob, in a matter-of-fact tone.
“And do you suppose he would
send such an amount of money simply for the asking?”
And Ralph’s doubts in regard
to the moonlighter’s sanity increased each moment.
“It don’t make much difference
whether he does or not,” was the careless reply.
“I can get everything we need to go to work with
on the strength of that showing, and I tell you that
we’ll have that well flowing just as soon as
possible. But you write to your father, ask him
to come on and see what we have got, and, after he
has talked with those who are in the business here,
he won’t hesitate about the money.”
“Yes, I can do that,”
said Ralph, slowly, but doubting very much whether
he could accomplish anything by it. “But
it will take three or four days at least before we
can hear from him.”
“That don’t make any difference,
for it won’t delay us. I’m going to
start right out to buy the engine, and by the time
we hear from him, we shall be at work.”
By this time they were at the stable,
and Bob began harnessing his horses, in proof of what
he said.
“I wouldn’t do that,”
expostulated Ralph. “It may not be as good
as you think it is, and you may get into an awful
lot of trouble about it.”
“Look here, Gurney,” said
Bob, impressively. “There’s oil there - plenty
of it - and I know what I’m about.
You just let me alone, and by the time Harnett is
able to understand anything, I’ll be ready to
prove to him that both he and you are rich, all through
your charitable idea of buying Simpson’s wood-lot.”