The Rover Boys in the Land of Luck: or, Stirring Adventures in the Oil Fields

CHAPTER XXVII
CAUGHT BY THE ENEMY

Dick Rover did not return to the hotel until late that evening. The boys were waiting for him, and Jack noted that his father's face wore a smile of satisfaction.

"I think I have struck something worth while," said he. "I have been over the Franklin claim very carefully with Nick Ogilvie and the two men he recommended, and as a result I have already telegraphed for Mr. Fitch to come here."

"Then Ogilvie and the others think there is oil on that claim?" questioned Randy quickly.

"They say the indications are very good. In fact, one of the men was very enthusiastic and he was willing to put up five thousand dollars toward boring a well in one spot that he picked out."

"That certainly shows he must have faith in it," remarked Fred.

"When do you expect Mr. Fitch?" asked Andy.

"I asked him to come over as soon as possible – to-morrow if he could."

"Do you think you can make some kind of a reasonable arrangement with Mr. Franklin, in case the oil expert's report is good?" asked Jack.

"Yes, I found Mr. Franklin a very fair man. Of course, he would like to get as much as possible out of any deal that is made. But he is reasonable, and has agreed to give me entire charge of the matter and take his pay at the rate of one-eighth of all the oil that may be produced."

After that Dick Rover went into many of the details concerning the land and what the different oil men had said regarding it. Of course the boys were tremendously interested, not only on their own account, but also because of Phil Franklin.

"I liked that fellow first rate," said Fred, "and I do hope his father is able to get some money out of this."

On the following day Mr. Fitch came in, and he and Jack's father went over the matter very carefully. Then the oil expert said he would begin an inspection of the property as soon as he could send for his outfit.

After that there was little for the boys to do but wait. Dick Rover took another trip to Wichita Falls, and then to several other places in the oil fields, including two towns in Oklahoma. He was getting figures of oil-well machinery, and also trying to become better acquainted with the whole oil proposition.

"You see, it's a new thing to me," he explained to Jack. "It's altogether different from those mining interests your uncles and I hold in the West and in Alaska. I've never had anything to do with oil before, and so I am going a bit slow, so as to avoid mistakes if possible."

As mentioned before, the Franklin farm was located near a place called Pottown. The Rovers visited this community and found there a small but well-kept hotel at which they took dinner one day.

"I think I like this just as well as the hotel in Columbina," remarked Fred.

"In some respects I think I like it better," answered Randy.

"What would you say to transferring to Pottown?" questioned their uncle. "Then you could be quite close to the Franklins while you stay here."

This suited the boys, and as a result the transfer was made early the next week. The Rovers had a suite of three rooms, Jack's father occupying one, the twins another, and Fred and Jack the third.

In the meantime Mr. Fitch had gone to work on the Franklin farm. He had with him two of his best men, and all of them went over the entire place with care. They also visited all of the wells in that vicinity, as well as the unfinished borings.

"When do you think you can make a report, Mr. Fitch?" questioned Dick Rover one day.

"I'm almost ready now, Mr. Rover. You shall have the report by next Monday."

The weather had been rather dry, and now the roads throughout that section were much better than they had been. In Pottown the boys had little trouble in hiring an automobile, and they often took trips to various places where the oil wells were in operation. They saw another well set off, and managed to get themselves covered with not a little of the black fluid.

"Suppose we take a run over to the Spell farm?" suggested Jack one day. "I've been wondering whether they really went ahead or whether it was only a bluff."

"I don't think it was any bluff," returned Randy. "They were getting in their machinery just as fast as they could."

If Dick Rover had been present he might have advised against visiting the Lorimer Spell claim. In a roundabout way he had heard from Carson Davenport. The oil well promoter had not forgotten how he had been knocked down, and he had told a number of people that he intended sooner or later to square accounts with "that fellow from New York."

But Jack's father was not on hand to see them ride away, and so without giving the matter much more consideration the boys had the driver of the automobile head towards the place where the encounter between Davenport and Dick Rover had taken place.

"My gracious! just see how the oil wells are coming in, will you?" cried Fred, while they were riding along. He pointed to a hillside where two new wells were at work. "Those weren't here when we went through before."

"It looks to me as if some of these folks were fairly crazy about oil," remarked Randy.

"Well, it's a terrible temptation to get busy when you think that under your very feet there may be thousands and thousands of dollars' worth of that stuff," returned Jack.

"What a different place this is from around Colby Hall," commented Fred.

"Yes. And quite different from Valley Brook Farm, too," added Randy.

"What's the matter with comparing it with Riverside Drive?" questioned Andy, with a grin. "Don't you see the Hudson River over there with the stately warships?" and as he spoke he pointed to a pond of water, the surface of which was black with oil and on which floated several logs.

"In one way I think the old fellow I was talking with last night was right," declared Jack. "He said that the oil had spoiled the whole country. Just look around, will you? Everything is black and greasy with oil."

"Well, they say 'dirty work makes clean money,'" cried Randy. "And I guess a lot of these men don't care how much they muss up the scenery and muss up themselves so long as they get good fat bank accounts out of it."

At length they came in sight of the Lorimer Spell tract, and they were both surprised and interested at the activity being displayed there. A gang of at least thirty men were at work, some around a well which was being sunk and others in erecting several buildings.

"They certainly mean business," remarked Jack, as they came to a halt near the bank of the little brook which flowed through one of the corners of the property. "You've got to give them credit – they didn't let the grass grow under their feet."

"I wonder if they are using their own money or whether they got some outsiders to invest," mused Fred.

Not wishing to get into any altercation with the workers, the Rovers kept at a distance. They saw Tate and Jackson among the men. Each was giving orders, and both seemed to be in charge of the operations. Carson Davenport was not visible.

One small building was already complete, and this was being used as an office. The door stood open, and presently a young fellow came out, lighting a cigarette as he did so.

"Hello, there is Nappy Martell!" exclaimed Andy.

Martell stood leaning against the corner of the building, smoking his cigarette and gazing idly at the workmen. Then he chanced to glance around and caught sight of the Rovers. He at once poked his head back into the building and said something to someone inside.

"He's coming this way," announced Fred.

"Yes, and there is Slugger Brown behind him," added Randy.

"They've got their nerve with them, after the way they treated us!" growled Jack.

"What do you fellows want around here?" demanded Nappy coolly, as he came closer.

"I'll bet they want to see how we are getting along," put in Slugger Brown. He was puffing away at a briar-root pipe, trying his best to look mannish.

"See here, you fellows, what did you mean by your actions the night you got us to walk out to that storehouse?" demanded Jack.

"That wasn't our fault," broke out Nappy hastily. "We weren't responsible for what Gabe Werner did."

"I don't believe Gabe was in it at all!" cried Fred.

"He was too. He got us to go after you, exactly as I told you," protested Nappy.

"But he wasn't there," said Fred. "And it wasn't a boarding house either."

"I don't care. He was there when we left him to find you. And he wanted to see all of you the worst way." Nappy turned to Slugger. "Isn't that right, Slug?"

"It certainly is. He said he would wait there until we got back. In fact, he said his leg hurt him so he couldn't go a step further, and he said he knew the old folks who lived there very well. We didn't know anything more than what he told us."

"I don't believe a word of your story, Nappy. I believe it's made up from end to end," answered Jack. "You simply had your orders to keep us from going into the hotel, and you carried those orders out to the best of your ability. My opinion is you were in league with those men who robbed my father of his papers."

"I was not. I don't know what you're talking about!" roared Nappy, but his face grew pale as he spoke. "I didn't even know your father had been robbed. Gabe Werner had been hurt. We thought his leg had been broken, although we found out afterwards it was only hurt. He wanted to see all of you – why, I don't know. We simply tried to do him a favor, and this is what we get for it."

"Nappy is telling things just as they were," declared Slugger.

"It's a fairy tale," declared Andy. "If it was true, why did you and Nappy hide when we came up?"

"Because we knew you would be mad when you got there and found that Gabe was missing," answered Slugger.

"Where is Werner now?"

"I don't know. I think he has gone home – anyway, he said something about going," was the glib reply.

"What are you fellows doing here?"

"We own an interest in this claim," answered Nappy loftily, and as he spoke he lit a fresh cigarette.

"Own an interest here?" demanded Jack in pardonable astonishment.

"That's it. I got my folks to buy an eighth interest in the whole outfit, and Slugger's folks bought an equal amount."

"Must have cost you something," said Fred.

"It cost our folks ten thousand dollars each," answered Slugger, in a bragging tone. "But we'll get that back, and a good deal more, too," he added.

"Did Gabe Werner's folks put up anything?" questioned Randy.

"Yes, they have an eighth interest, too," answered Nappy. "Oh, this is going to be some big concern, believe me."

"What about it if my father gets back those papers of which he was robbed?" questioned Jack pointedly.

"Oh, say, Jack Rover, you needn't come to me with that old yarn," growled Slugger. "We know there isn't a word of truth in it. Your father never had any such papers."

"He certainly did have them, and some day he may be able to prove it," answered Jack warmly. "On the very night that you fellows got us to go out to that storehouse he was knocked down in one of our rooms by two or three men and the papers were taken from him. And what is more, I am pretty sure in my mind that the fellows who took them were Davenport and his partners."

"Then you mean to say that Mr. Davenport is a thief?" cried Slugger, looking Jack full in the face.

"That's what I firmly believe."

Jack had scarcely uttered the words when he felt a heavy hand placed upon his shoulder. He was whirled around, to find himself face to face with the oil promoter.

"So that is the way you are talking about me, is it?" cried Carson Davenport, in a rage. "Calling me a thief, and all that sort of thing! I reckon I have an account to settle with you, and I'll settle it right now. You come with me."

And thus speaking he grasped Jack by the arm and dragged him across the field to where his gang of men were at work.

CHAPTER XXVIII
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.