THE NEW DRILL
TOM DID not mention the matter of Hankinshaw’s behavior to his father
the next day, because he did not want to worry him. He had also put Koku
under a strict injunction not to speak of the events of the night. But
to Ned, when he turned up at the office, he narrated the whole affair.
The latter was boiling over with indignation.
“It was a pity that you didn’t give him all that was coming to him,” he
declared. “There isn’t a doubt but what you could have sent him to
prison. Still, I suppose you were right in not giving the matter
publicity. I tell you, Tom, we’re dealing with a shady crowd, and I wish
we’d never taken the contract.”
“So do I,” agreed Tom. “And I’ll be heartily glad when the whole
matter’s off our hands. Of course, this special thing was probably done
by Hankinshaw without the knowledge of the others. He was playing a lone
hand, and if he’d got hold of the invention he’d have got all the profit
from it.”
“Maybe,” assented Ned. “But Thompson and Bragden, although more
polished, are probably just as crooked at heart. It’s my opinion the
whole gang are tarred with the same brush. All I want now is to see the
last of them. When we’ve once delivered the last shipment and have got
our money for it, I’ll feel like celebrating.”
“Well, we’ll only have to be patient for about two weeks more,” Tom
consoled him. “Jackson agreed with me yesterday that it will take only
that time to finish up the contract. By the way, how about that third
check for five thousand? It’s due now, isn’t it?”
“Was due three days ago,” answered Ned. “Late, as usual. I’ve had to
draw on them. Like pulling teeth to get anything out of them. We have to
do our work twice over—once in actually doing it and the second time in
getting our money for it. But we’ve got them on the hip now. They’ve
paid so much that it will be more profitable for them now to pay the
rest than to cheat us out of it.”
“There’s some silver lining to the cloud, anyway,” observed Tom more
cheerfully. “If it hadn’t been for this contract I wouldn’t have been
thinking about oil and wouldn’t have perfected this new idea of mine.
We’ll forget all about this bother when the money comes rolling in from
the patent rights. That is, if it does,” he added, with a return to his
habitual caution.
“No modifications, you old gloom hound,” laughed Ned. “You gave yourself
away that time. Own up, old boy, you know that you’ve got a good thing.
Come now, don’t you?”
Tom grinned.
“On the level, Ned, I feel pretty sure of it,” he confessed. “Of course,
‘there’s many a slip between the cup and the lip,’ and I may be letting
myself in for a disappointment. The next few days will tell. By day
after to-morrow I’ll be all ready to put the new drill to a practical
test. It won’t take long to know whether it’s going to work or not.”
The next two days were busy ones for Tom. He was, too, at high nervous
tension, wondering whether his idea would “go over big” or fail. He had
checked and re-checked on his figures, and could find no flaw in them.
And figures did not lie. Still——
He saw nothing of Hankinshaw. Either the man had left town temporarily
or he was keeping carefully under cover. Tom did not care which, as long
as the rascal kept out of his way.
At last the momentous morning came when Tom was to try out his new
drill. A few trusted workmen had been chosen to work the machinery. That
was all they were concerned with, and they would be in no position to
gauge the meaning of whatever results would be obtained. Jackson was
there to help, and Ned and his father were also on hand.
The miniature well was started, and for a time nothing was heard but the
creaking of the derrick and the chugging of the drill as it worked its
way through the soil. Tom, of course, knew the ordinary rate of progress
made in well digging with the usual type of drill. But by how much would
he be able to beat it? Or would he beat it at all?
The morning passed with interest at fever heat. It seemed to Tom that he
was making rapid progress. But the results of any one hour would not
give him a sufficient basis to generalize from. Special circumstances
might make the results small or great. The work would have to be spread
over several hours before he could reach an average from which he could
draw safe and sound conclusions.
At noon the men stopped for lunch, but Tom was too much excited to eat.
He spent that time in studying the character of the soil through which
the drill had been biting its way and the depth that it had reached.
The results astounded him. He thought he must have made a mistake in his
calculations and went over them again. But no. The figures were correct.
Was he dreaming?
His father, who had been looking over his shoulder, was equally
startled.
“Why, Tom!” he exclaimed, “do you realize what that means? That’s three
times as much as you could have got with the ordinary drill.”
“I know,” said Tom, in a voice that he tried to keep calm. “I thought I
must have miscalculated. Do you see any error in the figures?”
“None at all,” was the answer. “They’re perfectly correct. But it seems
almost beyond belief.”
“Well,” said Tom, “one swallow doesn’t make a summer, and one test
doesn’t prove that others will be just like it. Perhaps the soil was
lighter and easier to penetrate than it really seems. The real test will
come when we strike rock.”
They struck rock that afternoon, and the way the drill ground and
scrunched its way through it was music to Tom’s ears. It ate its way
with surprising rapidity, which was the more remarkable because the
specimens brought up showed it to be of a remarkably hard quality. Here
again the same comparative gain was made over the ordinary rate of rock
penetration.
Still Tom refused to be rushed off his feet, and the work went on for
two days more, days of steadily decreasing doubt, days of steadily
increasing jubilation.
At the end of the third day, Tom knew that beyond the peradventure of a
doubt he had “struck it.” He would have been delighted if his new drill
had proved to be able to do half as much again as the one commonly in
use. He would have been astounded had it proved to be able to do twice
as much.
But the result had far outrun his wildest expectations. The principle
that he had embodied in his new drill had _trebled_ its effectiveness.
He had hit on something that was destined to revolutionize the oil
industry.
Once more that inventive brain of Tom Swift’s would startle the world!