Ralph Gurney's Oil Speculation Part 29

CHAPTER x.x.xI.

THE SHOT.

It is barely possible that when Bob stood over the aperture with the iron poised in his hands which was to be the means of opening to them the mystery of the well, there was just a shade of fear at his heart that he had been mistaken in the signs, and that an upward rush of water, would be all that would follow the explosion.

His partners noted a look of almost painful hesitation on his face for an instant, and, then, as it vanished, he dropped the go-devil, retreating to where the group of anxious watchers were gathered around George's chair.

The seconds that followed the dropping of the iron were wonderfully long ones, and it seemed as if each one present ceased to breathe, as the time had come when the value or worthlessness of the well was to be decided.

Then was heard three distinct reports, somewhat louder than had been heard at the Hoxie well, because of the charge being nearer the surface of the earth, and this was followed by the black, noisome vapor that wreathed slowly around the aperture as if sent by the demons of the earth to keep back those venturesome mortals who would seek to penetrate their secrets.

No one spoke, and each eye was riveted upon the mouth of the well, to read there the story which was soon told. First came a shower of water, breaking into drops as it reached the surface, sparkling in the sun like diamonds, and then uprose, not slowly and waveringly as Ralph had seen it once before, but shooting quickly in the air, a transparent, greenish column of oil, that broke amid the timbers of the derrick, shattering into splinters the smaller joists and scattering them in every direction.

It was clearly and unmistakably oil, not in any small quant.i.ty, or sent with any slight force; but a discharge which, from its volume and intensity, showed how vast was the reservoir from which it had come, how great the strength of confined gas that sent it heavenward.

For nearly five minutes the spectators sat watching the flow of oil which told of the value of "The Harnett," until Bob broke the spell that bound them, by shouting:

"Hurrah for 'The Harnett!' Hurrah for petroleum!"

In an instant all present, even including George, burst into loud shouts of welcome to the long-confined and valuable product of the earth which was theirs.

During the thirty minutes that the new well spouted, congratulations were poured in on Bob from all sides, for through his efforts had this work been done, and without him it might have been many years before such a scene would have been witnessed on the Simpson wood-lot.

The partners hardly knew how to express their joy. George was quietly happy; but the unusual brilliancy of his eyes and the flush on his cheeks told of the deep but suppressed excitement under which he was laboring. In that steady upward flow of oil he saw a competency for himself and his mother, which he had not dreamed he should secure during many long years of toil, and as he clasped her fervently by the hand, she knew that it was of the many things this well would produce which would add to her comfort that he was thinking.

Old Mr. Simpson and his wife stood with clasped hands, looking at the representation of wealth which was pouring out before them, and in their eyes, even as they gazed, was a far-away look, as if they were thinking of their loved ones who, when on this earth, had been deprived of many of the necessaries of life, while wealth beyond their wildest imaginings lay beneath their very feet.

Ralph was laboring under the most intense excitement, which he strove vainly to suppress. He had not, like George, been obliged to battle with the world for those things which money can buy; but he saw before him a course already marked out, which he had believed he would be obliged to struggle very hard to reach.

Now he was rich, and all those things he had desired could be his.

Jim and d.i.c.k were loud in their demonstrations of joy that their last shot had produced such magnificent results; but their old partner, Bob, outstripped them all in loud rejoicings. He had demonstrated beyond the possibility of an argument that his location of the oil belt in the vicinity was correct, and he had done so even as against the theories of those older and more experienced in the business than himself.

In addition, one-quarter of all this was his, and he was what he had long dreamed of being--an oil producer.

The length of time which the well flowed demonstrated the fact that, if it would not produce a thousand barrels of oil per day, the yield would not fall far short of that, and when it finally ceased flowing, Bob was transformed into the steady, hard-working superintendent he had been since the work was first commenced.

It was necessary that something be done at once to save all this oil which was now going to waste, and he directed the workmen at once how they should begin.

Unknown to his partners, Bob had already made arrangements for the building of a tank, and, as soon as the workmen were engaged with the tubing, he started Jim off to town with a message to the contractors that no time might be lost in getting at the work.

Before Jim left, Ralph gave him a message which he wanted him to send to his father. It was short, containing only these words:

"Well just opened. Good for eight hundred barrels per day."

On reading it, Bob insisted that the eight hundred should be changed to one thousand, since that would probably be nearer the actual yield; but Ralph let it remain as it was, preferring to be two hundred barrels short of the actual yield rather than two hundred barrels over.

Mrs. Harnett persuaded George to return to the house as soon as the first flow had ceased; and, aided by Ralph and Mr. Simpson--for the others were too busy to be able to help him--he went back, fancying, as soon as he was away from the well, that he had dreamed of the wonderful things he had seen, and that it could not be a reality.

His friends were not certain whether he had been injured or benefited by the excitement; but he was so thoroughly tired out when he reached his room that he was obliged to go to bed at once, and there he fell into a long, sweet sleep, from which he did not awaken until evening.

As may be imagined, everything was in the greatest state of activity around "The Harnett" during the remainder of that day and all the night, making ready to save the oil which then was being lost, and before the morning came, those who were working at the well decided that even Bob's estimate of a thousand barrels was too small.

"The Harnett" was flowing at the rate of twelve hundred barrels of oil per day, and that represented at least as many dollars, although the price of oil might fall much lower than it then was, when the supply exceeded the demand.

"If there is anybody that thinks now that the oil-belt don't extend up this way, I should like to have them come up and take a squint at 'The Harnett.' She's spouting like a daisy, and I knew she would, from the first," said Bob, as he came in to breakfast next morning, after having worked all night, his joy so great that he did not even feel the fatigue.

George seemed almost well on this morning, and he took his seat with the others at the breakfast-table, much as if he was as strong as any of them, while his looks did not belie his actions.

"I knew you'd be well this morning," said Bob, gleefully, "for no matter how weak you were, such a sight as you saw yesterday would put the strength into you."

And then the ex-moonlighter's tongue rattled on as if it had, as motive power, a greater force than that which sent the oil up through "The Harnett."

Bob was as full of business as ever on this morning. By common consent, and without the necessity of any conversation on the matter, he had been tacitly accepted as superintendent, and it was not possible for him, just then, to spend many idle moments.

Already had the work on the tank been begun, and until it was finished, "The Harnett" would be connected with an empty one, about two miles away, the tubing being already nearly in position.

Bob had sent, the night before, for more workmen, and he confidently expected that by night all the product of "The Harnett" could be saved.

Old Pete, who had acted as a sort of watchman and guard for Bob when he was a moonlighter, had been sent for to fill a similar position at the well, and very many schemes were in progress.

A house was to be built for the accommodation of the workmen, and this Bob insisted Ralph should attend to at once, as it was needed sadly.

Mr. Simpson was charged with making a road to lead from the highway to the well, and since George was not strong enough to do any other work, he was made book-keeper and cas.h.i.+er, as well as general financier.

Jim and d.i.c.k were both hired by the owners of "The Harnett," one to act as general messenger and clerk to George, and the other for such important duties as the partners might not be able to attend to.

In fact, before sunset of the day after the well had been opened, each one of the owners was hard at work, and when they had ceased their labors for the day, gathering in George's room, now turned office, for a chat, Bob rather startled them by the information that it was his purpose to sink another well close by the house, as soon as he should get matters straightened out at "The Harnett."

CHAPTER x.x.xII.

Ma.s.sIE'S SCHEME.

During the following week, matters went on very smoothly at the well newly opened on Mr. Simpson's wood-lot.

George had continued steadily to improve, and looked quite like his old self, so much good had prosperity done for him. His mother, recognizing the fact that she could no longer be of service to him, and feeling not exactly at home in the rather limited accommodations which the Simpson house afforded, had gone home, while the three boys had settled down as regular boarders, or, rather, guests at the Simpson farm.

The road had been built, the house for the workmen was well under way, and the tank completed. By having this storage place near at hand, the value of "The Harnett" could be definitely settled, and it was found that the well was producing a trifle over twelve hundred barrels of oil every twenty-four hours.

The money which Mr. Gurney had advanced had already been repaid, and it was George's intention to settle for the machinery and tools in a few days more, for they were all anxious to be free from debt.