AT THE FRANKLIN PLACE
Carson Davenport's action came so unexpectedly that for the instant Jack
did not know what to do. Then, however, he tried to wrench himself free
from the oil well promoter's grasp.
"You let go of me!" he cried. "Let go, I say!" And then, as Davenport
continued to hold him, he struck the man on the chest.
"Ha! you're the same kind of a spitfire as your father, are you?"
bellowed Davenport. And in a greater rage than ever he let go of Jack
and hit him a stinging blow on the side of the face.
"Hi! Stop that! How dare you?" yelled Randy, and sprang forward to
Jack's assistance. But before he could reach his cousin Jack had hauled
off and hit Davenport a blow in the cheek.
By this time all of the Rovers were advancing upon Davenport, and the
oil well promoter thought it the best policy to fall back.
"Come on, Nappy! Let's get into this!" cried Slugger, and, rushing
forward, he caught Randy by the shoulder. "You let them have it out
alone!" he ordered.
"This isn't your fight, Slugger, and you had better keep out of it,"
retorted Randy. And then, as Slugger still tried to hold him back, Randy
put out his foot, gave the bully a shove, and Slugger measured his
length on his back.
In the meanwhile Nappy had also sprung forward. He tried to get at Jack,
but Andy and Fred got in the way, and though Nappy struck out several
times, hitting both of the Rovers on the arm, they retaliated with a
stinging crack in the ear and another on the nose which caused the blood
to flow freely and made Nappy retire to a safe distance.
By this time the all-around fight had attracted the attention of a
number of the workmen, and they came rushing up to find out what it was
all about. The driver of the automobile, who had remained in the car,
also came forward.
"I'll fix you, you young whelp!" roared Davenport, as he came again
toward Jack.
"You leave me alone," returned Jack. "Don't you dare put your hands on
me again!"
"Here, what's the rumpus?" demanded the driver of the automobile, a
fellow named George Rogers.
The boys started to explain, not only for the benefit of Rogers, but
also for the benefit of the workmen who were coming up.
"That whole bunch ought to be arrested!" blustered Slugger.
"That's what I say!" added Nappy, with his handkerchief to his bleeding
nose.
"That man started it," declared Jack, pointing to Davenport. "He caught
hold of me, and I told him to let me go. He had no right to put his
hands on me."
After this there was a war of words in which Tate and Jackson, who had
come up, joined. The oil well promoters were all anxious to do something
to the Rover boys, and in this they were seconded by Nappy and Slugger.
But, strange as it may seem, hardly any of the workmen took kindly to
this.
"Oh, they're only a bunch of kids," said one of the men. "What's the use
of bothering with them?"
"That man is mad at me because my father knocked him down twice the
other day," declared Jack, turning to the workmen. "And he knows why he
was knocked down," he added significantly.
"Was it your dad who did that?" questioned one of the men in the rear of
the crowd.
"It was. This farm was left to my father by Lorimer Spell because my
father saved Spell's life on a battlefield in France. My father had a
lot of papers to prove his claim, but the papers were stolen from him."
"I heard something about that," said another of the workmen.
"See here! if you fellows are going to believe such a story as these
kids are giving you, you can't work for me!" roared Carson Davenport,
with a scowl.
"I don't have to work for you if I don't want to," answered one of the
workmen quickly and with a scowl.
"See here, Carson Davenport, you let me have a word or two to say!"
broke in George Rogers. "I know you just about as well as anybody here.
You are the fellow who sold stock in the Yellow Pansy Extension,
something that I and a whole lot of others got bit on badly. Maybe you'd
like me to rake up that little deal in the courts for you."
"Rats! You don't have to dig up ancient history, Rogers!" growled
Davenport; but it was easy to see that the other's words disturbed him
not a little.
"I'll dig it up good and plenty if you don't leave these boys alone! I
don't know much about 'em, but they seem to be perfectly
straightforward, and their father is as nice a man as I ever met."
More words followed, Davenport, as well as Tate and Jackson, doing a lot
of grumbling. Once or twice Slugger and Nappy tried to take part, but
some of the workmen cut them short, and in the end one crowd moved
toward the automobile while the other headed in the opposite direction.
"Well, that's the time matters got pretty hot," was Andy's comment.
"Gee! one time I thought we'd all be at it tooth and nail," declared
Fred.
"In my opinion that fellow Davenport is nothing but a skunk," declared
George Rogers. "I've known him for years. He has been in half a dozen
oil-well propositions, selling stocks and leases. One time he caught
three young fellows from Chicago and sold them a lease for several
thousand dollars that wasn't worth a pinch of snuff. Then he started
what he called the Yellow Pansy Extension. The regular Yellow Pansy was
doing very well--hitting it up for about eight hundred barrels a
day--and of course lots of people, including myself, thought that the
Extension belonged to the same crowd. But it didn't, and the lease was
absolutely worthless; so that all of the buyers of stock got stung. I
myself was hung up for fifteen hundred dollars, almost all the cash I
had at that time."
"Why didn't they put Davenport and his partners in prison?" asked Fred.
"Because he is one of those slick fellows who can worm out of almost
anything. One or two fellows did make some sort of charges against him,
but they all fell through. There are hundreds of swindlers in the oil
business, and not one out of a dozen is ever caught."
"If Uncle Dick makes up his mind to go ahead on the Franklin farm I
think I know a way of helping him," said Andy, with a grin.
"What are you going to do, Andy? Take off your coat, roll up your
sleeves, and grab a pick and shovel?" questioned his twin.
"Not exactly, although I might want to do that later on. But I was
thinking that a good many of those workmen didn't seem to be satisfied
with their job. Maybe they would be only too glad to shift."
Although they hated to do so, the boys felt it was their duty to tell
the particulars of what had occurred to Jack's father as soon as they
saw him.
"It's too bad you got into another mix-up with that rascal, as well as
with Martell and Brown," said Dick Rover. "After this I think you had
better stay away from that locality. We'll let them go ahead and sink
all the money they care to."
Jack's father had been making some inquiries, and he learned that it was
true that the Martells, the Browns, and Mr. Werner had contributed
thirty thousand dollars towards driving two wells on the Spell claim. To
this amount of money Davenport, Tate and Jackson had contributed another
twenty thousand dollars.
"Fifty thousand dollars!" exclaimed Jack, when he heard of this. "That
certainly is quite a sum of money."
"It costs money to bore for oil in these parts," answered his father.
As he had promised, Mr. Fitch came to Dick Rover on the following Monday
with his report concerning the Franklin farm.
"I think you have found something well worth trying, Mr. Rover," said
he. "There are indications of oil in half a dozen places, and two of the
spots to me look particularly inviting."
Then he went into many details and brought in one of his assistants to
verify some of the statements. Dick Rover listened carefully to all that
was said, and then leaned back in his chair and looked at the oil expert
sharply.
"Then on the strength of this report, Mr. Fitch, you would advise my
sinking at least two wells?"
"I certainly would, Mr. Rover. That is, of course, if you can afford to
take the gamble. I'm almost certain that the oil is there, but you must
remember that even the best of us are sometimes deceived. However, I
will say this--I am not a particularly rich man, but if you sink these
two wells in the spots that I have picked out and you form a company at,
say, one hundred thousand dollars, for that purpose, I am willing to put
up five thousand dollars in cash for some of the stock."
"That certainly sounds as if you had faith in it," answered Dick Rover,
with a smile. "Are you willing to put that in writing?"
"I am, sir," and Mr. Fitch's face showed that he meant what he said.
"Very well, then, you do so, and I'll start operations to-morrow."
As soon as it was definitely settled that Mr. Rover would go ahead and
sink the two wells, the boys hurried over to see Phil Franklin. They
found the lad all smiles.
"It's the best news I ever heard," said Phil, his eyes gleaming with
pleasure. "Now, dad and I will have a chance of making some real money."
For it had now been settled that John Franklin was to have an eighth
interest in the new company to be formed.
"I'm awfully glad my dad is going ahead on your farm," answered Jack.
"And I hope for your sake as well as our own that the wells prove
regular gushers."
"That Mr. Fitch was very hopeful," answered Phil. "And my father says
he's one of the best oil experts to be found anywhere. He's an old hand
at the game."
That week and the week following proved to be tremendously busy ones for
Dick Rover. In conference with Nick Ogilvie and several others, all the
work preliminary to the sinking of the two wells was gotten under way,
and deals were closed for nearly all the necessary machinery, and also
for a quantity of lumber to be used in the construction of several
buildings.
"We're going to stay right in our house," said Phil to the other boys.
"We sha'n't get out until the flow of oil compels us to."
"Well, I hope the oil comes so fast it floats the old shack away,"
grinned Andy.
It soon became noised around that The Rover Oil Company had been formed
to exploit the Franklin farm. In the meanwhile Nick Ogilvie and his
assistants were hustling as much as possible to obtain the needed
workmen. They managed to get together a gang of fifteen, but then there
came a halt.
"They are hitting it up for oil over the line in Oklahoma," declared
Ogilvie, "and that has taken away a good many of our workmen."
"Better go to Wichita Falls and see what you can do," suggested Dick
Rover.
The next day Jack and Andy, while riding in George Rogers' automobile,
ran across three of the men employed by Davenport. These men had had a
quarrel with Tate, and were on the point of leaving their job. They
listened with interest to what the boys had to say about the Franklin
place.
"If they want men I think I'll go over and see about it," said one of
the workmen.
"So will I," came from another; and the third nodded to show that he
agreed.
As a result of this interview the three men called on Nick Ogilvie and
were speedily engaged. They told some of their friends; and before the
week was up six of Carson Davenport's best workers had left the Spell
claim and had signed up to work on the Franklin farm.