It was hard work to control the flow of oil, and the men around the new well had to work like Trojans. The black ma.s.s 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 pa.s.sed 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.

"h.e.l.lo! 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-pa.s.senger 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 e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed. "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?"