NEWS OF RUTH
"I guess they are pretty sure there is oil on that land," chuckled Andy,
as the whole party got aboard the automobile and started back for town.
"I hope they sink about a hundred thousand dollars in that ground and
get nothing for their trouble," added his twin.
"Gee, Dad, you certainly did soak Davenport a couple!" cried Jack
admiringly.
"I did it on the spur of the moment, Son. I couldn't help it," declared
Dick Rover. "It was too great an insult to pass unnoticed."
"And to think he didn't have the nerve to fight back!" added Fred. "I
didn't imagine he was such a coward."
"Well, I was surprised at that myself," answered his uncle, with
something of a smile. "But now listen to me, boys," he added seriously.
"Don't think because I flew into Davenport that that is the right thing
to do under all circumstances. He simply got me going before I knew it.
Ordinarily fighting doesn't pay, and I want you to know it."
"But, Uncle Dick, that wasn't a fight--that was only a good spanking,"
said Andy, and at this all the others had to snicker.
"I reckon Davenport knew he was in the wrong when he made that dirty
remark," came from Nick Ogilvie. "Why, in these parts many a man would
have shot him down for those words. I don't wonder your father flew into
him. He should have been licked until he was a fit subject for the
hospital."
"Do you think I am doing right to let them work the claim?" questioned
Jack's father.
"I certainly do, Mr. Rover. I want to get busy and earn the salary you
have promised me, but I wouldn't want to start operations anywhere on
that Spell claim. I know it has been thoroughly gone over by both Fitch
and Lunberry, and both of those men are as good experts as you can find
anywhere."
"Well, that forces me out of business for the time being, Ogilvie. I'll
have to look around a little and see if it is worth while for me to take
hold elsewhere. I presume all the really good claims around here have
been covered."
"I don't know as to that, Mr. Rover. You see, lots of the ranches
haven't been investigated very thoroughly. A fellow hits oil in one
place and the whole gang follow him like a lot of sheep, and in doing
that they may be passing by something a good deal better."
"Dad, why not look into this claim the Franklins own?" came from Jack.
"Are you talking of John Franklin?" questioned Nick Ogilvie.
"Yes."
"I thought that claim was in the hands of some other fellows--Tate,
Jackson, and that crowd."
"They did make a claim on it, so Mr. Franklin says, but he managed in
some way or other to get them out of it. I guess they left it mostly
because they thought they could do better on the Spell place."
"Well, I don't know anything about John Franklin's place, but I do know
he's a decent sort of fellow and I'd like to see him do well."
"If you are satisfied that Mr. Fitch is all right, Dad, why not have him
make a survey of the Franklin place?" suggested Jack.
"Perhaps I'll do that--after I've had a talk with Franklin," answered
his father.
Dick Rover was not a person to waste time, and he sought out John
Franklin and his son Phil the very next day and had a long talk with the
pair. Then, on the Monday following, he visited the Franklin farm,
taking Nick Ogilvie and two other oil men with him. The boys wished to
go along, but to this Jack's father demurred.
"I don't want too much of a crowd along," he said. "If anything comes of
it you can visit the place later. At present you had better try to amuse
yourselves around the town. And do try to keep out of trouble," he
added, with a smile.
Left to themselves, the four young Rovers visited the railroad station
and then drifted into the shooting gallery. Here they got up a little
contest among themselves, shooting at the longest range target the
gallery afforded. In this contest, which lasted the best part of an
hour, Jack came out ahead, making seventeen bull's-eyes out of a
possible twenty-five. Next to him came Randy with a score of fifteen.
"Say, what kind of a prize do I get?" questioned Andy, who had hit the
bull's-eye but nine times, two less than Fred.
"You get a decorated cabbage head, Andy," replied his twin. "A cabbage
head and two lemons."
"I don't care, I saved the target for the man, anyway," grinned the
fun-loving Rover. "The one Jack shot at is all mussed up." And at this
sally the others had to laugh.
After lunch the boys sat down to write some letters and to read some
newspapers which had just come in. In the news was word of some big oil
well strikes at a place about forty miles distant.
"Gosh! look at this, will you?" cried Fred, pointing to the article.
"Two wells just came in, and each of them good for twelve hundred
barrels of oil a day! Now that's what I call something like!"
"Wouldn't it be glorious if my dad could strike something like that?"
"I wish we could hit half a dozen wells, then our dads could start The
Rover Oil Company. We'd make money hand over fist. Wouldn't that be
grand!"
"You keep on and you'll be dreaming of oil," laughed Jack.
"It certainly is the land of luck," returned Randy.
"It doesn't look like the land of luck for this fellow," remarked Fred,
pointing to a ragged and unkempt individual who had just entered the
reading room of the hotel. The man was about middle age, and had a most
decidedly dejected appearance.
"I was wondering if you young gents couldn't aid me a little?" he
whined, coming up to Jack and Randy. "I've been playing in mighty hard
luck lately. I haven't had a square meal in two days."
"What's the matter--can't you get a job?" asked Jack.
"Job! What do you mean?" questioned the unkempt individual in wonder.
"If you're out of luck, why don't you go to work?"
"Say, maybe you don't know who I am!" exclaimed the man indignantly.
"You're right there. Who are you?"
"I am Wellington Jonkers, the man who opened the Little Kitty and the
Fat Herring. You must have heard about those properties. We sold eighty
thousand shares of one and sixty thousand shares of the other."
"What at?" questioned Randy. "Two cents a share?"
"No, sir! Those shares went for twenty and twenty-five cents," said the
man. And then, lowering his voice to a confidential tone, he continued:
"If you young gents can stake me to a hundred or two I can put you wise
to the biggest proposition in oil down here--a proposition that is bound
to bring in hundreds of thousands of dollars three months after it's
started. I've got everything fixed to go right ahead. You just put up
the two hundred, and I'll show you some facts and figures that will open
your eyes. I've got the real dope, and----"
"You poor fish, you!" exclaimed Jack. "What do you take us for, anyhow?"
He and the others had seen this type of oil well community parasite
before. In the restaurant attached to the hotel and also at the railroad
station and at the shooting gallery they had met more than one slick
individual who had wanted to "put them wise to the biggest oil
proposition" imaginable, all for the small sum of from two cents to
fifty cents per share in oil wells with such fanciful names as Sure
Winner, Daylight Luck, and Sunshine Sally.
"Then you don't want to go into a real good thing?" said the man, his
face falling.
"Not with you."
The man turned away, but then turned back:
"Say, you couldn't lend me five dollars until to-night, could you? I'm a
little short. My pard will be back on the seven-fifteen train, and then
I'll be all fixed again."
"I haven't anything for you," answered Jack shortly.
"And neither have I," added Randy. And then, lighting a cigarette, the
man shuffled away to see if he could not find some victims elsewhere.
"There's your land of luck from another angle," remarked Jack. "What
pests those fellows are."
"Well, I suppose they start in with all sorts of hopes, Jack. And then
they sink lower and lower as nothing proves lucky," answered his cousin.
The boys were waiting for the mail, and presently it came in. There were
letters for all of them, some from home and others from their chums who
were now enjoying themselves in various places. Dan Soppinger had gone
to Atlantic City, while Ned Lowe and Walt Baxter were on an island in
Casco Bay on the Maine coast. Gif was visiting Spouter and his folks in
a camp at Lake George.
"I'll bet they're having a lot of fun at Lake George," remarked Fred,
"swimming and motor-boating, and all that."
"Fred is thinking of May," returned Andy, with a grin.
"Aw, you cut that out, Andy!" retorted his cousin, growing slightly red
in the face. "You know you'd like to be up there yourself."
One of Jack's letters was from Gif, and in that his chum mentioned the
fact that Ruth was still in the care of the eye specialist and that her
case was a very serious one. He told Jack much more than Martha had let
out, and this news made the oldest Rover boy worry greatly.
"It's a terrible thing," he confided to Randy. "Just suppose poor Ruth
should go blind!" and he shuddered.
"Oh, Jack! I don't believe it's as bad as all that," cried his cousin.
"Why, Ruth was almost over it when we came away from school."
"No, she wasn't. That's just the trouble. The doctor up there evidently
didn't give her enough care--or, at least, just the right kind of care.
Of course, he did the best he knew how, but he wasn't an expert in that
line. After Ruth got home her eyes must have developed some new trouble,
all, of course, on account of that pepper Werner threw."
"It was a rotten thing for Werner to do!" declared Randy, his eyes
flashing. "Really, do you know, Jack, I think we should have had him
arrested for it."
"He'll certainly have to account to the Stevensons if Ruth goes
blind--he and his father. I believe the Stevensons could sue Mr. Werner
for big damages."
"Of course they could."
"That certainly is a terrible affair," remarked Fred, who had been
perusing Gif's letter. "I think we ought to round Werner up and give it
to him good and plenty. He deserves the licking of his life."
"The question is--where is Werner?" put in Andy.
"If he is still around Columbina he must be with Nappy and Slugger,"
said Randy. "But it's just possible that he has cleared out, thinking
that we might hand him over to the authorities."
"I can't understand what would possess a fellow to do such a dirty thing
as that," was Fred's comment. "Why, he might have blinded Jack, as well
as Ruth. And, by the way, Jack, how do your eyes feel?"
"They feel just about as usual. At first they felt rather scratchy and
watery, but now I haven't noticed anything unusual for some time--in
fact, never since we came down to Texas. But, you see, I got very little
of the pepper. The most of it went over my shoulder and right into poor
Ruth's eyes."
The boys discussed the matter for some time, and then turned to finish
the letters they had started to write. Soon the twins and Fred were deep
in their writing, but Jack could not settle himself to put down a word.
His mind was with Ruth. What if the girl he thought so much of should go
blind? It was a thought that chilled him to the heart.