TORPEDOING AN OIL-WELL.
It is safe to say that Ralph, who was interested in the shooting of the
well only as a spectator, was the most nervous one of all that party who
were about to show Mr. Hoxie whether he had "struck oil" or not.
Bob set about the work with the air of one perfectly familiar with what
he was doing, and the others aided him whenever it was possible, George
alone remaining inactive, since he considered himself entitled to a seat
with the spectator.
The well had, of course, been bored down as far as the bed-rock, leaving
an opening from eight to ten inches in diameter and quite twelve hundred
feet deep, which was nearly filled with the water that had flowed in and
the oil that had been poured in to give some slight resistance at the
top of the cartridge.
Over this, grim and weird-looking in the moonlight, rose the framework
of the derrick, formed of heavy timbers, and apparently solid enough to
resist any pressure that might be brought to bear upon it. Near by were
scattered pieces of machinery, tools and such debris as would naturally
accumulate around a place of the kind.
A large reel, wound with heavy cord, capable of sustaining a hundred
pounds' weight, and with a shallow hook, which would easily become
detached when the pressure was removed, was fastened at one of the
uprights of the derrick, while directly over the well was a block for
the cord to pass through. This was to be used to lower the cartridges
into the well.
After this portion of the work had been completed--and all three of the
moonlighters moved as rapidly as possible, lest Mr. Newcombe should put
in an appearance--the task of filling the shells was begun. The tops of
the long tin tubes were removed, and into these rather frail shells the
glycerine was poured, Bob handling it as if it was no more dangerous
than the petroleum they hoped to find.
As fast as each tube or cartridge was filled it was lowered into the
well by the stout wire bail that was fastened to the top, and just under
the cover was the hammer which would explode the percussion cap when
struck. These cartridges were pointed at the head, and since the point
of the second would rest on the top of the first, and the third on the
second, the blow which exploded the first would naturally be
communicated to the other two.
It was in lowering these cartridges into the well that Bob showed his
first signs of caution in handling the explosive liquid, for the least
jar or concussion, as the tin tubes were being let down into the well,
would have resulted in a premature explosion, which might have had the
most deplorable results.
Ralph, seeing that at this point even Bob was willing to admit that
there might be some danger in the work he was doing, proposed to George
that they move a short distance further away, lest there should be an
accident, and the reply he received was not well calculated to soothe
his nervousness.
"If one of those tubes should explode on the surface here, we should
stand as good a chance of being killed a quarter of a mile away, as
here. So we might just as well stay where we are."
And Ralph remained, although he was far from feeling as comfortable as
he would have felt at a more respectful distance.
"All ready, now," said Bob, as the last cartridge was lowered into
position, and the reel removed from the derrick. "Now in order to honor
Harnett's guest, I am going to allow him the distinction of exploding
the charge."
For a moment Ralph thought of what an experience it would be, to explode
sixty-four quarts of nitro-glycerine, and what an adventure would be his
to relate when he returned to college; therefore he marched boldly up to
the well, at the bottom of which was such a dangerous agent ready to do
its work. But when he saw the others seeking places of safety from the
gases, and possibly fragments that would follow the explosion, and when
he stood upon the platform of the derrick which afforded so insecure a
foot-hold, because of the oil upon it, his courage failed him.
"It may be a big thing," he said to Bob, "to drop this piece of iron
through the hole, and be the remote cause of such a powerful effect. But
if, when I attempt to get out of the way, my foot should slip, I should
hardly be in a condition to care for glory. I am greatly obliged to you
for the proposed honor; but think I had better decline it."
"Just as you please, my dear boy," replied Bob, carelessly. "Just find a
good place where you can see her when she shoots, and I'll drop the
go-devil."
Ralph lost no time in obeying the young moonlighter's instructions,
seeking a refuge near the corner of a small tool-house to the windward
of the well, and about a hundred yards from it.
"Look out for your mouth and nose just after the explosion," cautioned
George, "for the gases which will come first to the surface are very
poisonous."
"All ready!" shouted Bob, as he looked around to see that every one was
in a safe position, and then approached the well with the go-devil in
his hands.
There was an instant's pause as the boy stood with the heavy iron poised
over the aperture, and then dropping it, he sought shelter by the side
of Ralph and George.
Perfect silence reigned for what seemed a long time while the go-devil
was falling through twelve hundred feet of oil and water; but the time
was hardly more than a minute, and then Ralph, who had expected to hear
a deafening noise, simply heard a crackling sound, much as if two small
fire-crackers had been exploded. It had not occurred to him that but
little could be heard from such a distance beneath the surface.
"Look out for the gases!" cried George.
And as Ralph covered his nose and mouth with his handkerchief, he could
see a black vapor, almost like smoke, arising from the mouth of the
well.
"There is no oil there," he said to himself, as second after second went
by and there was no appearance of anything save the gases of combustion.
He was almost as disappointed as Mr. Hoxie would have been at finding a
"dry well;" for after all his tedious waiting he hoped to have been
rewarded by seeing the "shoot" of the oil.
He was rather surprised that Bob's face showed no signs of
disappointment, for he surely must have wanted to see oil after his
dangerous work. But Bob simply looked expectant, with his gaze fixed on
the mouth of the well, and Ralph turned again just in time to see a most
wonderful sight.
From out of the mouth of the well arose what appeared to be a solid
column of greenish yellow, rising slowly in the air like one of the
pillars of Aladdin's palace as it was formed by the genii. The top was
rounded, and the sides of this marvelous column, held together only by
some mighty force, shone in the moonlight like a polished surface of
marble, while all the time it arose inch by inch without fret or check,
until the top wavered in the night wind. Then one or two drops could be
seen rolling off from the summit, and in an instant the entire
appearance changed.
With a mighty bound the oil leaped into the air, tearing asunder the
summit of the derrick as if it had been of veriest gossamer, dashing the
heavy timbers aside like feathers, and spouting in the pale light drops
as of molten gold.
For a radius of twenty feet around the well the air seemed filled with
this liquid gold that was coming from the very bowels of the earth.
The oil poured out in torrents with a sharp, hissing noise that told how
great was the volume of gas imprisoned beneath the rock, which was
sending this oily deluge out, and the question of the value of the well
was decided.
"It's good for two hundred barrels a day!" cried Bob.
And Mr. Hoxie, who would reap this rich harvest, insisted that it would
produce very much more than that.
The damage done to the derrick was not heeded by the owner since the
destructive agent was worth just so much money per barrel to him.
After spouting to a height of fully two hundred feet, for nearly ten
minutes, the volume of oil, or, rather, of the gas that was forcing it
to the surface, appeared to be exhausted, and lower and lower sank the
torrent, spreading out in a fan-shape as it lessened, until finally it
ceased entirely.
"What is the matter?" asked Ralph, who fancied that oil-wells flowed
incessantly. "Your two-hundred-barrel well will hardly produce as much
as you thought."
"Indeed it will," replied Bob. "You don't think wells go on flowing like
that all the time, do you? They have breathing spells, like men. They
spout anywhere from five to fifteen minutes, and then remain quiet
about the same time, or longer. You see the gas in the reservoir of oil
forces it to the surface; the escape of the oil lessens the pressure
under the rock, and it remains inactive until sufficient gas has
gathered again to force more up. This well is as good a one as I have
ever shot."
Then Bob and his partners began to make their preparations for
departure, since, for them to be found with their tools near a
newly-opened well, would have been almost as dangerous as to have been
caught in the very act of "shooting it."
Ralph would have been only too well pleased if he could have waited long
enough to see the second spout, but being a guest of the moonlighters,
he could not offer any objection to their movements, and he also made
ready for the journey back to the hut.
Bob had settled his business with Mr. Hoxie, which was simply to get the
agreed amount for the work performed, and was just getting the reel into
shape to carry, when the clatter of hoofs was heard far down the road.
"The detectives!" shouted Mr. Hoxie, as he started toward the
tool-house, where, in a very few seconds, he would be counterfeiting the
most profound slumber.
"The detectives!" shouted the workmen, as they sought convenient places
for hiding; and the moonlighters were left to dispose of themselves as
best they could.
"Come this way!" cried Bob, as he caught up the reel, which might be
recognized as his, regardless of how he carried it, and dashed off into
the woods at full speed, followed by his partners and guests.
It was a flight which would be presumptive guilt, if they were
overtaken, but, under the circumstances, it was the only course the
moonlighters could pursue.