"Oh, well, this is a red-letter night, Dad," broke out Randy.

"Such a coming together may not happen again in a lifetime," added his twin.

Then the older Rovers told of many of their adventures, both while in camp in France and during the time they had been on the firing line.

"We were in some pretty hot fights," admitted Tom Rover. "One in particular—when we forced the Huns out of a stretch of woods they were holding—none of us is liable to forget. That's the fight in which Sam and I were wounded."

"Yes, and the day after they were wounded I was caught in a gas attack," said Dick Rover. "My! but that was something pretty nasty! I felt as if somebody had me by the throat and at the same time was trying to twist my stomach inside out. I never felt such a sensation in my life," and he shook his head and sighed deeply over the recollection of what he had passed through.

"Was that where you won your medal, Dad?" questioned Jack eagerly.

"No, my boy. The medal was won some time later, while your two uncles were in the hospital trying to recover from their wounds. We made two advances, and then were told to hold our new line. There was a fierce bombardment early in the morning, and then, because of a mix-up of orders, part of our command fell back while another tried to go forward. One of our men, a fellow named Lorimer Spell, a queer sort of chap who hailed from Texas, was hit by a piece of shell and knocked partly unconscious. He was unable to save himself, and as I didn't want to see him killed I ran out from behind our shelter and brought him in."



CHAPTER XVI

DICK ROVER'S HEROISM

It can readily be believed that the Rovers did not sleep much that night. The boys and girls were downstairs by seven o'clock and waited anxiously for the appearance of their parents in the dining-room of Dick Rover's residence, where the fathers were to have breakfast before returning to the troopship which was docked across the river, at Hoboken.

"We've got to get back by noon," announced Tom Rover, "and Sam and I want to pay a visit to Wall Street before we go, so we won't be able to spend much more time here."

"You were going to tell us how you won that medal, Dad," said Jack, after breakfast was over and his two uncles had said good-bye to everybody and left. "What about it?"

"Well, if you must have the story, sit down and I'll give it to you," answered Dick Rover, with a smile. "As it happens, the death of Lorimer Spell may make quite a difference in my plans for this Summer."

"Oh, then the poor man died in spite of your efforts to rescue him!" said Martha in crestfallen tones.

"He didn't die from that shell wound," answered her father. "But I had better tell the story from the beginning, since you seem to be so anxious to hear it."

"You must remember, Dick, that Jack is something of a soldier himself. He is a captain of the cadets, you know," remarked the mother of the lad.

"Oh, but that isn't like being a real soldier and fighting for Uncle Sam!" protested the youth.

"This Lorimer Spell, the fellow I saved, was a tall, lanky Texan who joined our command after we arrived in France. Just how he got in I can't say. He was rather a quiet sort of man, and some of the soldiers thought he was decidedly queer. He took a great interest in botany and geology, and I take it he was something of a student in those lines, although he was by no means well educated.

"The day that he was knocked out by a fragment of a shell was a misty one—the kind of a mist that makes it very uncertain to see any great distance. We did not know how close some of the Huns might be, and as a matter of fact they were closer than we expected, and some time later two of our men were shot down while moving from one trench to another close by.

"When Spell went down I was over a hundred feet away from him. Before he became unconscious he tried to crawl back to the trench from which he had come. But evidently he was confused and went down in plain sight of the Huns.

"I didn't care very much for the man, as I told you before, but I could not see him remain there exposed to the fire of the enemy, and so without thinking twice I jumped up out of the trench and ran across the ground to where he was lying. The shells had torn the soil dreadfully, so that I had considerable difficulty in reaching him.

"I placed him on my shoulder, and just then several Huns began firing at us. One bullet grazed my side, giving me a deep scratch, and another went through the cloth of Spell's coat. I stumbled down into a shell crater with the man and had all I could do to drag him and myself out. Then I plunged forward again, and just as the Huns let out several more shots, both of us stumbled down into the trench, and the rescue, if you might call it such, was over."

"Well, I think that was a grand thing to do, Dad!" burst out Jack, his face beaming. "Simply grand!"

"You couldn't beat it for pluck!" said Fred.

"And that's how you won the medal?" broke in Andy. "Fine!"

"You certainly deserved it," added his twin. "Gee! but suppose those Huns had plugged you when you were carrying the fellow!"

"And that's how I got him back to the trenches," went on Dick Rover. "He was taken to the field hospital, and there his injuries were found to be slight, and in a few days he was back on the firing line again."

"He ought to have been mighty thankful," declared Martha, who sat close by, holding her father's hand.

"He was thankful; and for that reason he did something which may have an important bearing on my future business dealings," answered Dick Rover. "He said he had no relatives of any kind, and he then and there made a will whereby if anything happened to him all that he possessed in this world should go to me."

"And then he was killed?" questioned Mrs. Rover.

"Yes. Just two days after his return to duty we were making another advance. Spell was in one part of the field while I was in another. Suddenly I saw him running off to a place just in front of where our squad was located. Then he made a turn as if to come toward us, and just at that instant he threw up his hands and fell forward on his face."

Here Dick Rover paused and dropped his eyes. No one cared to speak, and for an instant there was utter silence.

"When the skirmish was over we had gained our position, and a few hours later the body of Lorimer Spell was picked up and carried to the rear," went on Jack's father. "A bullet had struck him in the back of the head, and death must have been instantaneous.

"I confess that I felt pretty bad. A number of the company knew of the will Spell had made, and two of them were witnesses to the crude document he had drawn up. As a consequence, Spell's personal effects were turned over to me. They included a small amount of money, a ring, a wrist watch, and a number of papers, including an order for a box in a safe deposit vault in a bank in Wichita Falls, Texas."

"Poor fellow, it's too bad he couldn't have lived to enjoy himself now the war is at an end," remarked Mrs. Sam Rover.

"Were any of his papers of value?" questioned Jack curiously.

"That remains to be found out, Jack. His papers spoke of a valuable tract of oil land in Texas close to the boundary line between that State and Oklahoma."

"Oil lands!" exclaimed Randy. "Why, they may be worth a fortune, Uncle Dick! They are making immense strikes in oil down in that territory."

"I know that, Randy. Some of the wells are worth a fortune. But, on the other hand, you must remember that many of the tracts that are supposed to have oil on them have so far proved to be utterly dry. Men spend ten to forty thousand dollars in sinking a well only to find in the end that they have had their labor for their pains."

"Did Lorimer Spell say that his land had oil on it?" questioned Fred.

"From the way his papers and letters read one would think so, Fred. But, as I said before, Spell was a very queer kind of man. In fact, some of the fellows in our company thought he was a little bit out of his mind at times. It is just possible that he only imagined that he possessed valuable oil land."

"But you are going to investigate, aren't you, and make sure?" questioned Jack.

"Certainly, Son. I intend to go to Texas and make an investigation just as soon as I am mustered out of the service."

"Oh, Dad! do you mean that you might go to Texas this Summer?"

"I will if they muster me out."

"If you go, won't you take me along?"

"I'll think about it," and Dick Rover smiled at his son, whose face showed his eagerness.

"Gee! I'd like to go to Texas myself," burst out Fred.

"Such a trip would suit me down to the ground," announced Andy.

"I've always wanted to see a big oil well in operation," added his twin.

"I'd like to see them shoot an oil well," went on Jack. "They say it is a wonderful sight, especially if the well happens to be a real gusher."

"The queerest part of it is this," went on Dick Rover. "Before the war came on I was more or less interested in the oil fields in Texas and Oklahoma, as well as in Kansas. A good oil well, or series of wells, is a splendid paying proposition in these days, and I'd like first rate to get possession of such a holding and then start a first-class oil company."

"Oh, there are millions in oil! I know that!" burst out Martha. "Why, I was reading in a magazine only the other day of some folks in Texas who were quite poor. They had a farm of less than a hundred acres, and could make barely a living on it. Then the oil prospectors came along and located a well or two, and now those poor farm people have so much money they don't know what to do with it."

"Wouldn't it be great if we could go down there and locate a few of those first-class wells?" said Fred, with a sigh. "I'd just like to know how it feels to be a real millionaire."

"Can I go, Dad, if you go?" questioned Jack again.

"I'll see about that later. I don't wish to make any promises now."

"If Jack goes I want to go with him," put in Fred sturdily.

"Of course we'll want to go with him!" added Andy and Randy in a breath.

"What's the matter with us girls going along?" demanded Martha.

"What would girls be doing in the oil fields?" asked Fred. "A well might go off and shoot all your beautiful dresses full of oil."

"Huh! what about it if some oil got on that flaming red necktie you are wearing, Fred?" questioned his sister quickly. In his haste to get dressed that morning her brother had donned a necktie which she detested.

"Never mind my necktie, Mary. If Jack goes to Texas I'm going to see if I can't go along."

The matter was talked over a few minutes longer, and then Dick Rover went off with his wife to arrange some private affairs before he should take his departure for Hoboken. Then he said good-bye all around and was off.

"The next time you see us I think we'll be in a big parade," said Jack's father on leaving.

"A parade?" queried several of the others.

"Yes. They are talking of having a big parade of the soldiers on Fifth Avenue. If they do, of course we'll be in it."

"Hurrah! that's the stuff," cried Andy. "I've been aching to see one of those big parades ever since war was declared."

"If you do parade, Dad, we'll all be there to see you," declared Martha.

"We'll want front seats in the grandstand," added Mary.

"I don't think you'll get any front seats, Mary," answered her mother. "More than likely those seats will be reserved for the gold-star mothers—those who have lost their sons in battle."

"Well, those mothers deserve the front seats every time," said Jack.

"Indeed they do!" came from the girls.

"How soon will this parade come off?" questioned Randy.

"I don't know that the date has been settled exactly," answered Dick Rover. "But it will undoubtedly be in the near future. You will probably see all the details in the newspapers. I presume the whole of New York will have a holiday."

"Yes, and Fifth Avenue will be decorated in great shape from end to end," declared Mary. "Just see how they have been working on that Arch of Victory, and the Tower of Jewels, and all the other things."

"It will certainly be a parade well worth seeing," said Dick's wife.

"Yes, and I'll wager folks will come miles and miles to see it," added Fred. And then he continued quickly: "What's the matter with having Grandfather Rover down here from Valley Brook Farm?"

"Yes, and Great-aunt Martha and Uncle Randolph, too!" broke in Mary.

"Oh, we must have all of them, by all means!" cried Jack.



CHAPTER XVII

THE GREAT VICTORY PARADE

"My, what a jam of people!"

"Did you ever see such a crowd before in all your life!"

"And look at the flags and other decorations! Aren't they beautiful?"

"This time New York has outdone herself."

It was the day for the great parade of the returned soldiers, and New York City, especially in the vicinity of Fifth Avenue, was packed with dense crowds that filled miles of grandstands, windows, and other points of vantage, and also jammed the sidewalks and the side streets. It was a holiday for all, and everybody was going to make the most of it.

The Rovers had left their homes early to make their way to the seats they had obtained on one of the stands. With those who resided in the city were Grandfather Rover and also Aunt Martha and Uncle Randolph, who had come down the day previous from Valley Brook Farm.

"This is the greatest day of my life," said Grandfather Rover, his eyes glistening with pleasure. "To think that my boys have all fought for our country and come back from the war safely."

"Yes, and to think one of them has won a medal—not but what the others have been equally brave," responded old Uncle Randolph.

"I hope they never have to go to another war—they or their sons either," murmured old Aunt Martha.

The girls had invited May and Ruth to come to New York to witness the parade. May had accepted the invitation, but Ruth had sent word the doctor did not think a trip advisable at this time, her eyes being still in bad condition.

"It's too bad Ruth couldn't come," sighed Jack.

"Well, she had better take care of her eyes," answered his sister. "Oh, dear, why did that horrid Werner have to do such a mean thing!"

The Rovers had all they could do to get to the seats reserved for them. Each carried a small flag, to be waved as the soldiers passed. There was quite a wait, and the crowd seemed to grow denser every minute. Then from a distance came the fanfare of trumpets and the booming of many drums.

"Here they come! Here they come!" was the glad shout, and soon a platoon of police on horse-back swept by. Then followed a brass band of a hundred pieces or more, and the great parade was fairly started.

To go into the particulars of this tremendous spectacle would be impossible in the limits of these pages. Regiment after regiment swept by, representing every State in the Union. There were brass bands galore, with Old Glory everywhere in evidence. The crowd clapped and cheered, and sometimes shouted itself hoarse as some favorite command swept by with soldierly precision. Here and there a hero was recognized, and then the din would increase.

"Some parade, I say!" exclaimed Fred enthusiastically.

"Isn't it wonderful how many soldiers there are?" marveled May, who sat next to him.

"When are our boys coming?" questioned Grandfather Rover anxiously.

"They'll be coming along pretty soon now," answered Jack, who had been studying the program closely. "They are in the second regiment after the one now passing."

The New York State troops were now approaching, and the din became terrific, the more so as one company after another was recognized.

"Here they come! Here they come!" exclaimed Martha, who was gazing down the line.

"I see them! They are just at the corner!" added Mary.

"There's dad! I see dad!" screamed Andy, to make himself heard above the noise. "There he is, in the front row on this side!"

"Yes, and there is my father!" yelled Fred. "See him? Two men away from Uncle Tom!"

"I see dad," announced Jack. "He's in the middle. See him with that medal on his breast?"

"Hurrah, boys! Hurrah for you!" yelled Grandfather Rover, and arose excitedly, shaking his cane in one hand and a small flag in the other.



By this time all were on their feet, cheering and waving their flags wildly. Dick, Tom and Sam Rover saw them, and although they did not dare to turn their heads, they smiled broadly in recognition. For them the moment was just as thrilling as it was for those on the stand.

"Hurrah! Hurrah! Hurrah!" shouted the boys and girls, and their parents and other relatives joined in as strenuously as any one.

Old Aunt Martha was crying openly, and the other women had also to wipe the tears from their eyes.

"Somehow it chokes me all up," declared old Uncle Randolph, and blew his nose vigorously.

The company containing the Rovers passed on and the great parade continued hour after hour until it seemed as if there would be no end to that grand procession.

"Gracious! I didn't know there were so many soldiers in the whole world," declared Aunt Martha at length.

"If you are getting tired, Aunt Martha, I'll have somebody take you back to the house," remarked Mrs. Dick Rover, after they had been watching the parade for four hours.

"No, no. I am going to see it to the end," declared the old lady. "It will be something to talk about as long as I live."

"Just think of a lot of soldiers like these fighting all over our farm at Valley Brook," was Uncle Randolph's comment. "That's what they did over in France. It must have been terrible, the way things were cut up."

"My dad says you wouldn't believe it if you didn't see it," answered Randy. "He said some of the shell craters were big enough to dump a small barn in. Think of holes like that in your pasture lot."

But even the greatest of parades must come to an end, and at last the final body of soldiers marched by, and then came more police, followed by a great crowd of people that surged into Fifth Avenue like great flocks of sheep, hurrying, bustling, and jostling in an effort to get every way at once.

"Wasn't it perfectly grand?" cried Mary.

"It couldn't have been more wonderful," answered May.

"Now we'll get you back to the house and give you something to eat," said Mrs. Dick Rover to the old folks. "You certainly must be hungry as well as tired."

"Well, a little bit of something to eat wouldn't go bad, Dora," answered Grandfather Rover, placing an affectionate hand on her shoulder. And then he added softly: "We're mighty proud of our Dick, aren't we?"

"Proud! I should say we are!" answered Mrs. Rover, her whole face glowing with keen satisfaction.

It was decided that all of the older folks, as well as the three girls, should return to Riverside Drive. The boys, however, wanted to remain out and see what might take place further.

"We can pick up a little lunch somewhere—some sandwiches and pie and maybe a glass of milk," said Randy.

"Anything will do for me," announced Fred. "I'm almost too excited to eat."

"If you boys stay out you take good care of yourselves in this awful jam," warned Mrs. Tom Rover. "And don't you get into any mischief," she added to her twins.

The four lads saw the others safely to the automobiles, which were standing down one of the side streets, and then came back to Fifth Avenue.

"Let's walk down and look at the decorations and at the Arch of Victory," suggested Jack, and so it was decided.

In many places the sidewalks were littered with boxes which had been used to sit or stand upon. As a consequence, the best place to walk was in the street, and down this the boys pushed their way through the crowds which were gradually beginning to thin out.

"I never imagined buildings could be so handsomely decorated," declared Jack. "Those flags and banners and all that mass of bunting must have cost a fortune."

"Yes, and think of the money spent in decorating some of these windows," put in Fred.

They were gazing at a large show-window filled with a representation of American soldiers and sailors from colonial times to the present day. There were at least twenty-five figures in full uniform, and the display was as valuable to study from an historical standpoint as it was interesting to view as a picture.

"Some work to get all those uniforms together and to have everything exactly right," remarked Randy.

"I like the plain khaki of to-day as well as any of them," announced Jack. "The others are more gaudy, but when it comes to actual service—Ouch!"

Jack's remark broke off abruptly as a small but heavy box thrown from the gutter landed directly on his head. Then another box came flying through the air, to strike between the three other Rovers. It was followed by a ball of soaking-wet and muddy newspapers which struck the show-window with a thud, sending some dirty drops of water into the Rover boys' faces.

Fred was the first to whirl around in an endeavor to see where the two boxes and the wadded-up newspapers had come from. He was just in time to see two young fellows try to lose themselves in the rapidly moving crowd.

"Gabe Werner!" he ejaculated. "There he goes!"

"Yes, and there is Bill Glutts with him!" added Andy.

"What's that?" questioned Jack. He had received a small cut on one ear from the flying box and his cap had been knocked over his eyes.

"Werner and Glutts did it," answered Fred. "There they go down the street."

"If that's the case we've got to catch them," returned the oldest Rover boy. "Come on, quick!"

All started in pursuit of the two former bullies of Colby Hall. But to follow them through the rapidly moving crowd was not easy, and several times they were afraid the rascals would get away from them.

"Here, here! Take your time," said a policeman to Fred, as the latter brushed by him. "Take your time."

"I'm after a fellow who ought to be arrested," answered Fred quickly.

"Where is he?" demanded the bluecoat with interest.

"There he goes—down around the corner!" And then, as the policeman showed no disposition to leave his post, the youngest Rover boy hurried away after the others.

Werner and Glutts had looked back, and seeing that the Rovers were in pursuit, they had tried to throw them off the trail by passing around the nearest corner. Now they headed in the direction of the East Side.

"I told you not to bother with them," panted Glutts, who was somewhat out of breath. "Now, for all you know, they'll have us arrested."

"Oh, shut up your whining, Bill!" growled Werner in disgust. "I wish I had knocked that Jack Rover's head off with the box."

"You came very near busting the window."

"I wouldn't care if I did bust it," answered the other recklessly.

"It don't look as if that dose of pepper hurt Jack Rover much."

"Never mind. I'll fix him some day, you see if I don't."

The two glanced back once more and to their chagrin saw that the Rovers had come around the corner and were chasing after them faster than ever. This caused Bill Glutts to become more frightened than before.

"Oh, what shall we do? They'll catch us sure!" he wailed.

"No, they won't! Come on!" yelled Werner, and caught his crony by the arm.

He was too excited to notice carefully where he was running, and the next instant he, followed by Glutts, brought up against a stand on the sidewalk in front of a small shop. This stand was filled with various articles of bric-a-brac, and it went down with a crash, carrying dozens of small articles with it.



CHAPTER XVIII

BOUND FOR TEXAS

"Hi! hi! phat—phat you mean py knocking mine stand ofer?" cried out a voice from the doorway of the building, and a small, stockily built foreigner came running forward.

"Get off of me!" spluttered Bill Glutts, who was under Gabe Werner. "You're pressing some of this broken stuff into my face!"

Werner could not answer, being too surprised by the sudden turn affairs had taken. But then, as he realized that the four Rovers were close at hand, he rolled over on the sidewalk, upsetting a small boy as he did so, and then managed to scramble to his feet.

"Come on, Bill!" he panted, and set off down the street at the best gait he could command.

What Bill Glutts had said about being pushed into the broken bric-a-brac was true. His face had come down into the midst of several broken vases, and one hand rested on a broken bit of glassware. When he arose to his feet he found himself held fast by the storekeeper.

"You don't vas git avay from me already!" bawled the owner of the place. "You vas pay for de damages you make."

"You let me go! It wasn't my fault!" stormed Glutts.

By this time the Rovers had come up. Bill Glutts looked the picture of despair, with blood flowing from several cuts on his face and on one hand.

"Where is Werner?" questioned Jack quickly.

"There he goes!" exclaimed Randy. "Come on after him before he gets away."

"Some one had better stay here and see that Glutts doesn't get away," suggested Fred.

"All right, Fred, you and Andy stay here until we get back," answered Randy, and then he sped off after Jack, who was already running at his best rate of speed in the direction Gabe Werner had taken.

By this time Werner was thoroughly scared. He knew that he was liable to arrest for smashing the bric-a-brac stand, and he had no desire to fall into the clutches of the Rovers, feeling instinctively that they might pummel him thoroughly before handing him over to the authorities. Besides that, he remembered that they might hold him to account for the pepper incident.

He had turned down a side street where there were a number of tenements. He dove through an open doorway and ran the length of the hall, coming out of the building at the rear. Here there was a small yard surrounded by a board fence. He leaped the fence with ease, and then dove into the back end of another tenement and out at the front, and soon lost himself in a crowd on the other street.

Jack and Randy hunted around for fully a quarter of an hour, and were then compelled to give up the chase.

"It's too bad," declared the oldest Rover boy, "but it can't be helped. Let us go back and see what they have done with Glutts."

They soon found their way back to where the bric-a-brac stand had been smashed. A woman was now in charge, and she was just finishing the cleaning away of the wreckage. Fred and Andy stood nearby watching her. Both wore a broad grin.

"What's the matter? Couldn't you catch Werner?" questioned Fred.

"No, he slipped us," answered Jack, and gave the particulars.

"The police just carted Bill Glutts off in a patrol wagon," announced Andy. "The keeper of the store, a Bohemian with an unpronounceable name, went along. He declared Glutts would have to pay the bill in full, and even then he wanted him put in prison for life or beheaded, or something like that."

"Phew! In that case Glutts will get all that is coming to him!" exclaimed Randy.

"He sure will if that Bohemian has anything to do with it."

The four boys took another look around for Werner, and then walked back to Fifth Avenue and a little later went home. Here a fine dinner awaited them.

"It's certainly been a banner day," remarked Fred. "I'll never forget it as long as I live."

After that two weeks passed rapidly. The boys went on a visit to Valley Brook Farm, and also met Spouter, Gif and several of their other school chums. They had a glorious Fourth of July, and then came back to New York City.

During that time Jack wrote two letters to Ruth, and received one in return. The girl stated that she felt quite well, but that her eyes were still bothering her a good deal.

"It's too bad, Jack," said Martha, when her brother spoke about this. "Ruth is not the one to complain. Her eyes are probably in worse shape than she is willing to admit."

"I'm worried greatly, Martha," he answered. "I wish I could do something for her."

In a roundabout way the Rovers heard of what had happened to Bill Glutts. He had been locked up over night, and in the morning some relatives had come to his assistance and through paying a fine had had him released. Then Glutts and his relatives had paid for the damage done to the bric-a-brac stand, a damage amounting to nearly a hundred dollars. In the meanwhile, so far as they could ascertain, nothing further had been heard of Gabe Werner.

"Werner is evidently going to keep shady," remarked Fred. "Perhaps we'll never see him again." But in this surmise the youngest Rover boy was mistaken, as later events proved.

At last came another red-letter day when the command to which the older Rovers belonged was mustered out of the United States service. Tom and Sam came in one day, and Dick the next evening.

"Now for civilian clothes once more!" announced Tom Rover. "And then I guess it will be high time for me to get back to the offices in Wall Street."

"And I'm with you, Tom," said Sam. "I'd rather be at my desk than on a battlefield, any day."

When Dick Rover came back he was more filled than ever with a desire to get down to Texas to look over the land which had been left to him by Lorimer Spell.

"I've found out that it is right in a territory where a number of well-paying oil wells have been located," said he. "But I'm not altogether certain that his claim is a sure one, and it might be just possible that some prospectors might try to jump it, now that word has gone forth that he was killed in battle. They may think he died without leaving any heir."

"Well, Dad, you know what I said," cried Jack quickly. "If you went to Texas I'd like first rate to go along. Maybe I could help you with your claim."

"Oh, Uncle Dick! won't you take us all with you?" pleaded Fred. "It would be a grand outing for this Summer. We've been working very hard at school, you know."

"A trip to Texas would put us in A, Number One condition for Colby Hall this Fall," added Andy, with a grin.

"We wouldn't interfere with your business in the least," commented his twin.

At first Dick Rover was rather doubtful about taking four lively boys with him on the trip. But then he felt that they deserved something for applying themselves so diligently to their studies during the Winter, and also for helping matters to run smoothly while he and his brothers had been in France.

"You can go," he announced the next day, after a consultation with his brothers and their wives. "But I am going very quickly—by to-morrow night at the latest. Can you boys get ready so soon?"

"Can we get ready!" exclaimed Andy. "Say, Uncle Dick, just let me run upstairs and get an extra pair of socks and a toothbrush and I'll be ready to go to the North Pole if you say so!" And at this sally there was a general laugh.

After that matters moved with incredible swiftness. It was decided that the boys should take no baggage but what would go in their suitcases for the trip, and these were speedily packed. In the meanwhile, Dick Rover obtained the necessary railroad tickets and sleeping-car accommodations.

"Hurrah! we're off for Texas and the oil fields!" cried Fred.

"Off for the land of luck!" exclaimed Dick Rover, with a smile.

"The land of luck?" questioned Jack. "Is that what they call it, Dad?"

"Yes, Son. And it's truly the land of luck for some. For others it is the land of bitter disappointment."

"Then I would call it the land of luck—good or bad," announced Andy.

They were to leave from the Pennsylvania Terminal late in the evening. The whole family had dinner together, and those to be left behind did not hesitate to give the boys a great deal of advice.

"I hope you don't fall in with any rough characters down there," said Mrs. Dick Rover. "They tell me there are some men in the oil fields who are anything but nice."

"You may find you will have to rough it," said Tom Rover. "I understand some of the oil fields are ten or fifteen miles away from the nearest town."

"Well, we've roughed it before," answered Jack.

The mothers of the boys might have been more upset, but they felt relieved to think that Dick would be with the lads.

Soon the time came for parting, and all drove quickly to the railroad terminal. Then finally good-byes were said, and those bound for Texas hurried downstairs to the big underground train station. Porters with their bags took them to the proper car, and they soon found themselves settled. A few minutes later they were off.

The trip during the night was uneventful, and, strange as it may seem, all of the boys slept soundly. But they were up early and ready for their breakfast just as soon as that meal was announced from the diner.

"I'm afraid we're going to have a rainy day of it," said Dick Rover, as the four boys sat down to a large table while he took his place at a smaller one opposite. "But as we'll be on board all day, it won't matter."

During the meal Jack noticed that his father was reading a letter very attentively, and when the party walked back to their Pullman he mentioned this fact.

"This is a letter from an oil well promoter," said Dick Rover. "I don't exactly know what to make of it. He makes a proposition which on the face of it looks rather good, but somehow or other I have got it in my head that he is a crook."

"In that case, Dad, I'm sure you won't want to have anything to do with him."

"Is he a New York man or one from down in Texas?" questioned Fred, who overheard this conversation.

"He operates mostly in Texas, although he has some connection in New York. He is very anxious to form a new company, and, of course, sell the stock. Well, I am willing to go into a new thing and take stock for myself and try to dispose of some to others, provided the company is really a good one. But I don't want to get mixed up in any shady transaction."

"I should say not!" cried Jack. "The Rover name has always been a clean one."

"What is the name of this promoter?" questioned Fred.

"Carson Davenport."

"What's that?" exclaimed Jack, somewhat startled.

"Carson Davenport. Did you ever hear that name before?"

"I certainly did, Dad. This Carson Davenport has a son Perry, and this Perry Davenport and Nappy Martell were great chums, and unless I am mistaken, Mr. Martell and Carson Davenport were once partners in some mining scheme. I heard Perry and Nappy talking about it several times."

"Humph! if this Carson Davenport was a partner of Nelson Martell, I don't know as I want anything to do with him. That whole bunch is tarred with the same stick. Not one of them is honest," declared Dick Rover bluntly.



CHAPTER XIX

IN THE LAND OF LUCK

"Well, here we are in Texas at last."

"And what immense stretches of country there seem to be, Jack. Miles and miles without a house or any other building."

"You must remember, boys, that Texas is the largest State in the Union," came from Dick Rover. "Some of the farms, or ranches, down here cover thousands of acres."

"How much farther have we to ride?" questioned Randy.

"Ten miles, that's all," replied his uncle.

They had made two changes since leaving New York City, but each stop had been less than an hour in duration; so to these boys so used to outdoor activities it felt as if the whole journey had been continuous. They were bound for a small town which in years gone by had been known as Steerville, but the name of which since the oil boom had been changed to Columbina. This, so far as Dick Rover could ascertain, was the nearest point to where the Lorimer Spell tract was located.

"We'll take a look around Columbina first," Jack's father had said. "I want to see how that claim looks. Then I'll take a run over to Wichita Falls and get those documents belonging to Spell from the safe deposit box in the bank."

"I see an oil well!" shouted Fred presently, and he pointed out of the car window to where the huge derrick could be seen over a distant rise of ground.

"There is another! And another!" added Andy, a few minutes later.

"Now we must be coming into the oil fields," announced Dick Rover, and his face showed that he was just as eager as the boys. "Just think of how some of these wells have made a great many comparatively poor people almost millionaires over night!"

"It sounds like a fairy tale, doesn't it, Dad?" exclaimed Jack. "No wonder they call this the land of luck."

"But don't forget the disappointments, Son. Many a man has put his all into sinking a well only to find it absolutely dry."

"And wells cost so much to sink, too!" put in Fred. "Ten to forty thousand dollars each! It's an awful amount to gamble away."

"Not all of the wells cost that much, Fred. In some places they strike oil at a distance of a few hundred feet. But here they have to go down much deeper. Many good wells are down three thousand feet or more."

The train had stopped at one or two towns, and now the porter announced that the next stop would be Columbina, and he took their suitcases to the platform for them. Presently they rolled up to a small wooden station, and the travelers alighted. Then the heavy train rolled westward.

"Welcome to Columbina!" cried Andy jestingly. "Some big city, I must declare. I wonder where the Waldorf-Vanderbilt Hotel is located?"

"What's the matter with going to the Ritz-Copley Square?" added his twin, with a grin.

"Perhaps we'll be thankful to get any kind of a shake-down, boys," announced Dick Rover. "This certainly is worse than I anticipated, although I knew that we couldn't expect much in one of these boom towns."

To a newcomer Columbina certainly offered no special attractions. Only a few years before it had been nothing but a point where the ranchmen had shipped their steers on the railroad, with a tiny stockyard and a small ranchmen's hotel and saloon combined. Now the boom city, if such it might be called, consisted of a long straggling main street with a much dilapidated boardwalk on one side only. In the middle of the street the mud was all of a foot deep, and through this wagons and automobiles plowed along as best they could. All of the buildings were of wood, and none of them more than three stories in height. There were half a dozen general stores, the same number of eating and drinking places, and two buildings which were designated as hotels, O'Brian's being one and Smedley's the other. There was also a long, shed-like moving picture theater advertised to be open twice a week, in the evening.

"I was advised by a man on the train to try the Smedley Hotel first," said Dick Rover. "He thought I'd find a better class of people there than at the O'Brian place. Wait till I ask the station master where the hotel is located."

"You can't miss it," said the station man, when applied to. "It's down at the end of that boardwalk. If you go any further you'll sink into mud up to your knees," and he smiled feebly.

"Any chance of our getting in there?"

"Just as good a chance as getting in anywhere. They tell me O'Brian's place is so full they're falling out of the windows," and the station master chuckled over his little joke.

"Anything in the way of a taxicab around here to take us and our baggage up there?"

"Taxicab? The last man to run a taxicab was Jim Lumpkins, and now Jim's struck oil and he's so rich he won't do nothing. If you want to get up to Smedley's I reckon you'll have to hoof it."

"Come on, Dad, let's walk up there," said Jack.

"But your suitcases are pretty heavy," answered his father, with a smile.

"Oh, we won't mind those," declared Fred. "We've hiked around with just as much to carry many times."

"I sha'n't mind it myself," declared his uncle. "Campaigning in France was a splendid thing to harden one's muscles."

They set off down the one business street of which Columbina boasted. They had to pick their way carefully along the dilapidated boardwalk. At one point they came opposite O'Brian's Hotel. Downstairs was a saloon, and in this a noisy bunch were talking and singing.

"I don't know as I would care to stop there," remarked Randy. "It looks like rather a tough hole to me."

"You are right," responded Jack. "I'd rather go to some private house, if I could find one, or else buy a tent and hire a place where we could pitch it."

"Gee, that's an idea!" cried Andy. "I'd much rather go camping out and do my own cooking than put up with just any old thing."

At length they came to Smedley's Hotel. It was a new building, three stories in height, with a restaurant occupying one-half of the lower floor. Half a dozen men were occupying chairs on the front piazza, and they eyed the newcomers curiously.

"Looks fairly clean, anyway," whispered Fred to his cousins. "I wouldn't want to get into some old ranch that was full of bugs."

The office of the hotel was about twelve feet square, with a sanded floor. On one side was a plain wooden settee, and on the other an equally plain counter on which rested a register and a bell. Behind the counter was a tall, freckle-faced man with a shock of red hair.

"Good afternoon, gentlemen," he said hospitably. "What can I do for you?"

"We want to know if we can be accommodated here," answered Dick Rover. "There are five of us."

"How long do you want to stay?"

"I don't know exactly. Several days at least, and maybe a week or two."

"I see." The hotel proprietor scratched his head thoughtfully. "I've got one big room left and one small room directly opposite. The small room has only a single bed in it, but the other room has a double bed and I could easily put two cots in there besides that."

"Would you mind showing us the quarters?" questioned Jack's father. Experience had taught him when in out-of-the-way places not to accept hotel accommodations until he had inspected them.

"Sure thing, Brother. Just follow me."

The boys waited below while Dick Rover and the hotel man went upstairs. A minute later they came down, and then Jack's father registered for the entire crowd.

"You pay for your meals in the restaurant when you get 'em," announced the hotel man. "The rooms are separate. Three dollars each per day."

The rooms to which they had been assigned were on the third floor of the hotel. One was amply large for all of the boys, and the other, while much smaller, had good ventilation and Dick Rover said it would suit him very well.

"The whole outfit is better than I was afraid it might be," he announced. "Some of these boom towns have wretched quarters for newcomers. In fact, I've read in the newspapers that in many places the newcomers had to roll themselves in blankets and sleep out in the fields."

"I was reading about one place where they set up cots on the floor of a general store at night and sold the right to sleep on a cot until seven o'clock in the morning for one dollar," said Randy.

There was no running water, but each room was supplied with a bowl and pitcher, and after the extra cots were placed in the larger apartment an extra bucket of water was also brought up by a maid.

Although they did not know it, the Rovers had no sooner disappeared upstairs than two of the men sitting on the veranda of the hotel came into the office and looked over the register.

"Five Rovers, and all from New York City," muttered one of the men, and gazed knowingly at his companion.

"Four of them were nothing but kids," returned the other. "It's only the man who counts, and his name seems to be Richard Rover."

"Do you think he is the same Rover?"

"I shouldn't wonder, Tate. That name isn't a common one. However, we had better make sure before we make another move."

Andy and Fred were the first to get through washing up, and then they came downstairs to take a look around before going into the dining-room with the others for supper. They came out on the hotel porch, and were surveying the scene before them when the two men who had inspected the hotel register lounged up to them.

"Well, what do you think of our town?" questioned one of them pleasantly.

"I haven't seen enough of it to form an opinion," answered Fred.

"It will take us a week or two, I suppose, to take in all the sights," came from Andy, with a grin.

"It might take you a week or two if you went on foot through the mud," answered the second man. And then he continued: "I suppose you came from a distance, eh?"

"We came from New York."

"Going to invest in some oil wells, I suppose?" remarked the first man who had spoken, and he smiled broadly.

"That depends on how we find things here," answered Fred. "You see, my uncle is interested in a tract of land they say has oil on it. Of course he'll want to make an investigation before he goes ahead."

"Is that man who is with you your uncle?"

"Yes."

"Is the tract of land he is interested in near here?" questioned the second man.

"I don't know how close it is to this town."

"What's the tract called? If you don't know exactly where it is, perhaps we can help you locate it."

"It's the Lorimer Spell tract," answered Fred innocently. He thought the men were just asking out of idle curiosity.

"Oh, I see." The man frowned and looked at his companion.

"Do you know anything about that tract?"

"Oh, I've heard of it. It's up on the north side of the town. I understand Spell was shot during the war," the man continued, looking at the boys.

"He was," answered Andy. "And he left all his property to my Uncle Dick, who once saved his life."

"Oh, that's it, is it!" cried one of the men. "Seems to me I heard something about that. Your uncle played the regular hero act."

"As I said before, he saved Lorimer Spell's life, and did it at the risk of his own. It was in the midst of one of the fiercest fights."

At this moment Jack and Randy came rushing down the stairs and out on the porch of the hotel in great excitement.

"We just saw somebody up the street!" exclaimed Jack. "And who do you think it was? Gabe Werner!"



CHAPTER XX

PLOTTING AGAINST DICK ROVER

"Gabe Werner!"

"Where is he?"

"Up the street," answered Randy. "Come on after him."

"Who's the man you are after?" questioned one of the men who had been interviewing Andy and Fred.

"He's a young fellow who once went to a military academy with us. He's a regular bully and did something for which he ought to be locked up," was Fred's reply, and then he rushed down into the street, following his three cousins.

"How can Gabe Werner be down here?" questioned Andy. "Why, we left him in New York City!"

"I can't help that, Andy. It was Werner just as sure as I am standing here. I just happened to glance out of the window and saw him crossing the roadway. He turned his face straight toward me, and I couldn't help but recognize him."

"Where did he go?"

"I'll point out the place when we get there."

By this time the four Rovers had left the boardwalk and were plowing along on the side of the road through mud that varied from an inch to six inches in depth. They had started to run, but were soon compelled to slow up.

"Gee, this is something fierce!" panted Andy.

"Oh, you cinder path!" chanted his twin. "Wouldn't you like to do a hundred-yard dash on this road?"

"It's not much farther," announced Jack. "I saw him heading for that shack yonder."

The place he mentioned was a small building erected of rough boards, with a galvanized roof. They neared the shack to find two men sitting before it on a log smoking their pipes. They appeared somewhat startled.

"Did a young fellow just pass this way?" questioned Jack quickly.

The two men looked at the Rovers curiously, and then one shook his head.

"Don't think he did, Stranger. I didn't see anybody, did you, Tom?"

"No," was the positive answer.

By the look on their faces Jack felt that the men were not telling the truth. Yet what he was to do he did not know.

"Maybe he went back to that garage," he suggested, pointing to a smaller building in the rear.

"Look around if you think anybody is there," said the first man who had spoken, and the boys hurried down to the garage, which stood open. As they did this one of the men sauntered into the shack.

"Say, what's the meaning of this?" he demanded of Gabe Werner, who stood hiding behind a door.

"I'll tell you as soon as they go away," was the answer of the former bully of Colby Hall. "Don't let them come in here and see me."

"All right, they sha'n't come in," was the man's laconic reply; and then he went outside again, to resume his smoking.

Having walked around the garage and peered inside, the four Rovers walked again to the shack. The man who had just come out of the building leered at them.

"Didn't find the fellow you were after, did you?" he queried.

"No," answered Jack shortly. He did not like the appearance of the man in the least.

"Want to see him particularly?"

"I want to give him a good thrashing—that's what I want to do!" exclaimed Jack. "And after that I might turn him over to the police, if there is any such thing in this town."

"We haven't any police here. We run things to suit ourselves."

"What do you want to lick him for?" questioned the other man.

"He threw pepper in my eyes once, and he's done a lot of other things he oughtn't to have done," returned Jack, and then turned back to the hotel, and his cousins followed.

"Those two men were on the hotel veranda when we first went there," said Randy. "I noticed them, and I did not like their looks at all."

"Do you know what I think?" returned Jack. "I believe Gabe Werner was in that shack all the time. I think he must have seen us coming and given those fellows the tip. They both tried to appear cool, but they were both flustered."

"But what can Gabe Werner be doing in this out-of-the-way place?" demanded Fred.

"He probably came here, Fred, just for the excitement. Hundreds of young fellows have drifted to the oil fields just as years ago they drifted to the gold fields. They gamble in oil stocks and do what they can, trying to strike it rich. It's a great temptation to any fellow who hasn't a well-paying job at home."

"But Gabe Werner ought to be going to school," put in Andy.

"True, Andy. But Gabe himself thinks he is old enough to do as he pleases. Evidently from the way he acts his folks can no longer control him."

When the boys got back to the hotel they found Dick Rover looking for them. He listened in surprise to what they had to say.

"It certainly is odd if that Gabe Werner is here," he said. "And more than likely you are right—otherwise that fellow wouldn't have taken such pains to hide himself. Well, if he is here, you must watch that he doesn't play any more tricks on you."

A fair supper was had at the hotel. During the meal both Fred and Andy noticed that the two men who had questioned them in the hotel office concerning the Lorimer Spell claim were watching their Uncle Dick closely.

"They seem to want to know all about our business," said Fred, when mentioning this to his uncle.

"Oh, that's the case in every oil town or mining camp," answered Dick Rover. "Men are always anxious to get a lead, as they call it, on what is going to happen next. If they think a fellow may strike it rich in some particular location they rush after him like a flock of sheep and try to get claims as close to him as possible."

After the meal was finished the boys took a walk around the town to see how the place looked at night and thinking they might possibly run across Gabe Werner.

The narrow street with the single boardwalk was crowded with people, some well dressed and others in the roughest of costumes. There was loud talking and jesting, and most of the pedestrians seemed to be in good humor, although occasionally they would pass a group evidently out of luck and willing to let everybody know it.

"No more oil fields for me!" they heard one man exclaim, as he lunged past, evidently partly under the influence of liquor. "I've sunk forty-five thousand dollars in wells already, and not a sniff of gas to show for it. I'm through!"

"That's the other side of the picture," remarked Randy. "Evidently he's got rid of every cent he had, and now he's so downhearted he is taking to drink."

"I don't see where he can get it in these days," said Fred.

"Oh, they manage to get it somehow."

The moving picture theater was open, and a crowd was swarming inside. The pictures were old and of a wild Western nature, and none of the lads had any desire to see them. They passed on and looked into the windows of a couple of the general stores, where everything from matches to bedding seemed to be for sale. Then they came to a corner where there was a side street which was little more than an alleyway. Along this were a dozen or more shanties set in anything but a regular row.

On the corner was a flaring banner announcing that here was located the Famous California Chop Suey Restaurant. Behind the small dirty windows ten or fifteen men were eating at half a dozen tables covered with oilcloth.

"Look!" exclaimed Fred, pointing in through the open door of the restaurant. "There are those same men who were at our hotel. Evidently they can't be stopping there—or at least they don't eat there."

"Isn't it queer that they should hang around our hotel and then come down here for a meal?" remarked Randy.

"They're talking to another man—somebody who wasn't at our hotel," said Fred. "Just see how excited they seem to be!" he added quickly, after one of the men drew a paper from his pocket and all of them bent over it with interest.

Then the stranger of the crowd began to talk to the others very earnestly.

"Let us walk down the alleyway, and perhaps we can find out something about those men," suggested Jack. "You say they asked about Lorimer Spell and his claim? They may know something that my dad would like to find out."

"All right," said Fred.

The four Rovers turned the corner of the restaurant and walked slowly down the alleyway along a narrow cinder path. This path ran close to the side of the building, and here were located several small windows, one of them close to where stood the table at which the men inside were seated.

"It's a mighty good thing that we ran across those Rovers the very day they came in," one of the men was saying. "If it hadn't been for that they might have gone up to the Lorimer Spell claim and done something that would queer the whole thing."

"Oh, I don't think they could do that, Tate," returned the man whom the lads had not seen before. "You know at the best Spell's claim on the land was not perfectly clear."

"Well, that's how you look at it, Davenport," said another of the men. "You must remember, Lorimer Spell had a good many friends in this neighborhood. Of course he was a queer Dick and all that sort of thing, but in spite of that folks here would want to have Spell's wishes in this matter upheld."

"Oh, I know we run some risk," returned the man called Davenport. "But I think the stake is worth it."

"To be sure it is!" came from one of the others.

"The question is," came from the man named Tate, "how are we going to get at it? Do you think you'll be able to see the documents this man Rover must carry?"

"Of course I'll see them. I'll get at them some way," returned Carson Davenport firmly. He was a large-built man, with coal-black eyes and black hair and his face had a rather cruel expression.

"Somebody said that Lorimer Spell placed his valuables in some safe deposit vault," went on one of the men. "In that case, this Richard Rover wouldn't have them."

"I don't see why not," said another. "If he became Spell's heir he would have a right to do anything, and the bank would have to give the documents up."

More talk of a like nature followed, and the Rover boys listened with keen interest to every word that was said. They recognized in Carson Davenport the man who had written to Jack's father hoping to get the latter interested in some fake oil companies, trusting that The Rover Company in New York City would be able to dispose of the worthless stocks to their customers—people who trusted them implicitly in all their financial transactions. While these negotiations were going on Jake Tate, Davenport's right-hand man, had learned that Lorimer Spell was dead and that he had made Dick Rover his sole heir. This was at a time when Tate and Davenport, as well as the other men, were trying to get possession of the Spell land, feeling sure that there was oil on it. They had been on the point of communicating with Dick Rover, thinking they might get the claim away from him, when he had surprised the whole crowd by his unexpected appearance in Columbina.

"We've got to have quick action in this," declared Jake Tate. "The longer we delay the worse off we'll be."

"Yes, but you've got to find out about those papers first," said one of the other men, lighting a cigar.

"You leave me to do that," said Carson Davenport. "I'm sure I know exactly how to handle this man Rover."

"He must be a pretty shrewd fellow, Davenport. Otherwise he wouldn't be holding such an important position in that Wall Street company," remarked Tate.

"I've handled men like that before. You leave it to me."

"But you don't want him to suspect anything is off color," said one of the other men.

"I'm not so green, Jackson. I wasn't born yesterday."

"Didn't you say you thought this Rover had a lot of money?"

"Yes, the whole family has money. But, at the same time, that has nothing to do with it. I'll tell you what I propose to do," continued Carson Davenport earnestly. "I'll wait until I am sure that he——"

This was as much as the Rover boys heard for the time being. Around the corner of the building from the main street had come three figures. They had been abreast, but now they approached on the cinder path in single file. As they came closer the lights from the restaurant fell on their faces, and to their intense surprise the four Rovers recognized Gabe Werner, Nappy Martell, and Slugger Brown.



CHAPTER XXI

WORDS AND BLOWS

The surprise on both sides was equal, and for a moment neither the Rovers nor those in the other crowd uttered a word.

"What are you doing here, Jack Rover?" demanded Nappy Martell at length, as he scowled at the youth and his cousins.

"I might ask the same question of you, Nappy," was Jack's return.

"Did you come here from that detention camp?" questioned Fred.

"That's none of your business," retorted Slugger Brown.

"You got away from us this afternoon, Gabe Werner, but you're not going to do it this time," continued Jack, and caught the rascal by the arm.

"Hi! you let go of me," howled the bully roughly, and shoved Jack back against the building.

At this Randy leaped forward and also caught hold of Werner. Nappy Martell and Slugger Brown were about to jump in to the assistance of their friend when Fred and Andy interfered.

"You leave them alone," ordered Fred, with flashing eyes. "He's one of the meanest fellows in the world. He threw pepper in Jack's eyes and in the eyes of Ruth Stevenson."

The loud talking so close to a window of the restaurant attracted the attention of the men inside, and the fellow named Jake Tate thrust his head out to see what was going on.

"Say, what do you know about this?" he exclaimed, turning to his companions. "Those four young Rovers are out here right by the window!"

"You don't say so!" burst out Carson Davenport.

"If they are by this window maybe they were spying on us," put in the man named Jackson.

In the meanwhile there was something of a fight going on outside. Gabe Werner had tried to break away, and then launched a blow at Jack, who returned by hitting him a crack in the jaw.

"See here, you leave Werner alone!" blustered Slugger Brown.

"You keep out of this, Slugger!" cried Jack, and then, as Werner hit out a second time, Jack dodged and the bully's fist struck the side of the building, skinning several of his knuckles. Then Jack landed a blow with all the force he could command on Werner's left ear, and the rascal went down on the cinder path and rolled over into the roadway.

By this time the men in the restaurant had run outside and were coming up.

"What's the rumpus here?" demanded Jake Tate, pushing his way through the crowd of boys. He was a burly individual, and could at times put on a most aggressive manner.

"We caught these four fellows right by this window," declared Nappy Martell, with a sharp look first at Tate and then at Davenport.

"It looked to us as though they might be spying on you," added Slugger Brown, and he too gave Davenport a peculiar look.

"Spying on us, eh?" muttered the oil company promoter in anything but a pleasant manner. "Fine piece of business to be in!"

By this time Gabe Werner had rolled over and gotten to his feet. But instead of coming at Jack again, he kept at a safe distance, in the meanwhile sucking his bruised knuckles and nursing his left ear.

"We have a right to walk on this street if we want to," remarked Randy.

"They were standing right by this window, and appeared to be listening to something," declared Slugger Brown.

"Then they must have been listening to what we were saying," grumbled Jackson.

"How long were you at this window, young fellow?" demanded Jake Tate.

"I guess that's our own business," and Randy's eyes flashed defiance.

"You want to keep your eyes on those Rovers," cautioned Nappy Martell. "They're as sly as foxes. I know 'em!"

"And they'll do you harm if they can," added Slugger Brown.

"He is saying that because we wouldn't stand for any of his underhanded work," explained Fred.

"We never did stand for anything that wasn't on the level," added Andy, and looked at Carson Davenport suggestively.

"See here, young fellow, don't you get fresh!" cried the oil company promoter. And then he added with a sneer: "I reckon you've been listening to more than was good for you."

"Well, if you want to know it, we heard a few things that surprised us," answered Jack boldly.

"What did you hear?" questioned Jake Tate quickly.

"We heard what you had to say about the Lorimer Spell claim, if you must know it," retorted Fred.

"Yes, and we are going to report it to my Uncle Dick at once," said Andy.

At this the men were evidently much disturbed, and Tate pulled Davenport back and whispered something into his ear. Then both conferred with Jackson. In the meantime Nappy and Slugger came forward again with Werner close behind them.

"You tried to run things to suit yourselves up at Colby Hall," sneered Slugger. "But you'll find it a different story down here."

"Don't you dare to tell any stories about us," warned Nappy. "If you do you'll get in bad, mark my words. I've stood all I'm going to stand from your crowd."

"If you are behaving yourself and trying to earn an honest living, we'll have nothing to say to anybody about your past," answered Jack. "The war is over, and the question of how you aided those German sympathizers is a thing of the past."

"Don't you trust 'em," growled Werner. "They'll do their level best to get you in bad. I know 'em!"

"You just let me get at you, Werner, and I'll show you what I'll do," retorted Jack, and made a move in the direction of the fellow. And at this the bully lost no time in retreating. He was evidently afraid that the Rovers would hand him over to the authorities.

By this time the men were coming forward again.

"See here, boys, we don't want any trouble," said Carson Davenport oilily. "We were only talking about that Lorimer Spell claim in a general way. I'll explain everything to Mr. Rover's satisfaction in the morning. I only want to work with him in this matter. We could get along so much better than if we worked separately."

"All right, then," answered Jack. "You know where my father can be found."

"You may have got a wrong impression from our talk," added Jake Tate. "We handle things in a rougher way down in this oil country than you do up in New York. Davenport will straighten out everything with your father."

After this the men continued to talk to the boys for several minutes, doing their best to allay the Rovers' suspicions. Nappy and Slugger listened with interest, as did also Werner, who, however, kept out of reach of Jack and his cousins.

"We might as well be going, Nappy," said Slugger presently, and turned and hurried up the narrow street, and Gabe Werner went after them. Then, a moment later, the men returned to the restaurant to finish the meal they had begun.

"I suppose we might as well return to the hotel," said Jack.

"Right you are!" declared Randy. "The best thing we can do is to let Uncle Dick know about this."

They found Dick Rover sitting in a corner of the hotel porch talking to an old oil man to whom he had brought a letter of introduction.

"This is Mr. Nick Ogilvie," said Jack's father after introducing the boys. "He will take charge of any operations we may commence in this territory. He is an old oil man, and knows this district thoroughly."

The boys sat down to listen to what the old oil man might have to say. Mr. Ogilvie remained the best part of an hour, and then went off, stating that he would be around again the next day. As soon as he had departed the boys, making sure that no one else was within hearing, told Jack's father of all they had learned concerning Carson Davenport and the men associated with him. Dick Rover listened with intense interest, his face clouding as they proceeded.

"This is certainly news, and I'll have to investigate it thoroughly," he declared, when they had finished. "Evidently this Carson Davenport is a worse sharper than I thought."

"He says he can explain everything to your satisfaction," said Jack. "But I don't see how it can be done."

"Nor I, either," declared Randy. "My opinion is that they are a bunch of crooks and nothing else."

"Evidently they think they have some sort of claim on the Spell land," answered Dick Rover. "And it is possible that such is a fact, because, as I said before, the title to Spell's land seemed to be clouded. Of course, I don't know what is in the documents in the safe-deposit vault at Wichita Falls. Those documents may clear the matter up."

"Then I should think the best thing would be to get those papers," said Jack.

"That's what I intend to do."

"Will you see Davenport in the morning?" questioned Fred curiously.

"Certainly, Fred. I am not afraid of that crowd, and the more they talk the better I'll like it, for then I can get some sort of line on what they are aiming at."

It was some time after breakfast the next morning when Carson Davenport put in an appearance. Dick Rover was busy writing some letters when he came in, and the boys were addressing post-cards to their folks and friends. Davenport was alone.

"I want to clear up any misunderstanding that may have arisen," said the oil well promoter smoothly, as he dropped into a chair beside Jack's father.

There followed a conversation lasting over an hour. At first Davenport did his best to smooth matters over, but gradually, as Dick Rover managed to draw out one fact after another, the oil well promoter showed more or less irritation. Dick's shrewdness bothered him, and finally he hardly knew how to proceed.

"You take it from me, Rover, the only way for us to do is to work this thing together," he remarked. "One claim is just as good as the other, and what is the use of our getting into a dispute over it when we are not real certain that there is oil on the land?"

"Then you mean to say that you think your claim on the land is just as good as mine?" asked Jack's father.

"My claim is just as good, and maybe better. But I don't want to have any trouble. I figure that it will cost about thirty thousand dollars to sink a well on that land. Now why not go in together? We've got ten thousand dollars, and if you'll put up the other twenty thousand we can try our luck and see what comes of it."

"I'm not admitting that your claim is a good one," answered Dick Rover. "I'll know more about it in a few days."

"Why, what are you going to do?"

"When Lorimer Spell died he left me everything he possessed, and that included some things left in a safe deposit box at a bank in Wichita Falls. I am going to get that box and see if there are any documents in it relating to this claim. Then I'll know exactly how I stand in this matter. Until that time I sha'n't make any sort of a deal."

This was Dick Rover's final decision so far as it concerned Davenport, and the latter went off looking anything but pleased.

"He'll get the best of you if he can, Dad," remarked Jack, after the interview was over.

"I don't doubt it in the least, Son."

"What's the next move, if I may ask?" questioned Fred. The oil well proposition was beginning to interest him tremendously.

"I am going to take the first train for Wichita Falls to-day," answered his uncle. "I guess you boys can get along here until I get back."

"How far is that Lorimer Spell tract of land from here?" asked Randy.

"About three miles or so."

"Then what's the matter with our walking out there and taking a look around?" suggested Fred. "We've got the whole day before us."

"You can do that and welcome," said Jack's father. "But take my advice and take a good lunch along, because you may not be able to get anything up there. I don't know whether there are any farmhouses around or not."

An hour later Dick Rover was off for Wichita Falls by train. Then the lads asked the restaurant man to put up a substantial lunch for them, and a little later they set off in the direction where the Lorimer Spell tract was located.

Around Columbina the walking was anything but good. But presently they found themselves on a country road which had not been cut up by a steady stream of wagons and automobiles, and here they found going better.

They had covered about two miles when they came to a bend in the road, and there Andy called a halt.

"I've got something in my shoe. Wait till I take it off," he said, and sat down on a rock.

They were all resting when they saw an automobile truck rumble past them. There were three men on the front seat, and the lads were very much surprised to see that two of them were Jake Tate and the man called Jackson.



CHAPTER XXII

AMONG THE OIL WELLS

"Did you see those fellows?" exclaimed Randy, after the automobile truck had rumbled out of sight.

"I did," answered Jack. "They were Tate and Jackson."

"Can they be going up to the Lorimer Spell claim?" exclaimed Fred.

"It's possible."

"I don't think they saw us," put in Andy, lacing up his shoe again.

"No, they didn't seem to look this way at all. And, anyhow, they were too busy talking to notice," answered Jack.

The four Rovers continued on their way, following the automobile. Occasionally they met other automobiles, as well as wagons, some piled high with oil-drilling machinery. Then they came to a place where a pipe line was being constructed.

"We are certainly in the oil fields," announced Jack. "See all the derricks in the distance?"

Being-good walkers, it did not take the boys long to reach the Spell tract of land. To make sure that they had found the right spot, they asked an old teamster who was at the roadside mending a harness.

"Yes, that's Lorimer Spell's ground—or at least it was his ground before he was killed. There is the old shack just as he left it."

The boys walked over to the house, which stood among some low bushes. It was a dilapidated structure, and had evidently been out of repair for several years. Most of the windows were gone, and the front door stood wide open. As was to be expected, the four rooms the house contained were empty save for some straw on the floor and a pile of half-burnt sticks on the open hearth.

"Some thieves must have come along and taken whatever there was of furniture," observed Jack.

"Yes, and somebody has been using it for a place to bunk in," added Fred. "But I don't believe they have been here within the last few days," he added, with a look at the ashes on the hearth.

From the house the boys proceeded to look around the farm, or ranch, if such it might be called. It was irregular in shape, one corner running over a hill and down towards a small brook. Here, to their surprise, they saw a pile of oil-drilling machinery, and a number of posts had been set up. On one of the posts was a placard reading:

The Carson Davenport Claim. Keep off.

"What do you know about this!" cried Jack, his eyes blazing.

"Let's knock the sign down," suggested Fred quickly.

"No, we won't do that—at least not yet, Fred. We'll wait until my father comes with those papers from Wichita Falls."

In the soft soil they could see numerous tracks of automobiles and wagons which had passed that way. One of these tracks was fresh.

"I'll bet that auto with Tate and Jackson was here just before we came!" cried Randy. "Those fellows are certainly on the job. They probably believe that 'possession is nine points of the law.'"

"And it may be down here," said Jack, his face clouding. "The authorities haven't things under their control in a wild country like this as they have in and around the big cities."

There were no oil wells near the Spell tract, and to get to the nearest the lads had to tramp over another hill, a distance of more than a quarter of a mile. Here they found several wells in operation, the combined flow of which, they were told, amounted to about four hundred barrels per day.

"Not so bad, when you consider this oil is worth about two dollars and a half a barrel," remarked Jack.

"That makes a thousand dollars a day," returned Fred. "Gee, just think of taking in that much every twenty-four hours!"

The boys were told that another well was to be shot off that afternoon. This was located about half a mile away, and they resolved to visit the place, first, however, stopping by the roadside for lunch. They were told where they could get a drink of water.

"Phew! how it smells of oil," remarked Randy, turning up his nose at the dose.

"I guess we'll get our fill of oil before we get through, Randy," laughed Jack. "Some of these neighborhoods are saturated with oil from end to end. The houses and barns are full of it, and so are the roads, and they tell me even the things in the dining-rooms and bedrooms smell of oil."

"And just see how black the stuff is," declared Fred. "It doesn't look one bit like the oil we are used to using. It certainly needs a lot of refining."

"And just think of the hundred and one things that come from it," said Jack. "Kerosene and gasoline, and benzine and naphtha and paraffin, and I don't know what all."

The middle of the afternoon found them at the place where the new well was to be brought in—that is, provided everything went well, the the head workman told them, with a grin. He was a good-natured Irishman with body and clothing saturated with oil from head to foot.

"'Tis not a noice way av makin' a livin'," he announced. "But 'tis clane money one gits in his pocket."

"Yes, and you haven't got to stay here forever," answered Jack, with a smile. "After you've made your pile you can go to some place more agreeable."

"Sure, an' that's true, Son, so 'tis," said the foreman.

He explained to them how the well had been drilled and how the charges had been lowered. They had tested out the well at eighteen hundred feet, but without success. Now they were down twenty-six hundred feet, and the indications for oil were decidedly good.

At length came the moment for shooting off the well. Some of the woodwork surrounding the derrick had been removed, and all the electric connections were pronounced in good working order. Then the boys and the others who had assembled were ordered back to a safe distance.

It was a thrilling moment, and no one felt it more than the four Rovers. They waited a few minutes, and then came a dull rumble, shaking the ground as if by an earthquake. Then they saw something shoot skyward, and then came a sudden rain of black oil, flying and spattering in all directions.

"They've struck it! They've struck it!" yelled Andy excitedly. "They've struck oil!"

"Gee, but I'll bet that makes them feel good," announced Fred. "That well must have cost a lot of money."

"Forty thousand dollars, the foreman said," came from Jack. "Come on, let us get back unless we want our clothing ruined." For the wind was shifting and sending a fine spray of oil in their direction.

It was hard work to control the flow of oil, and the men around the new well had to work like Trojans. The black mass was flowing off in a depression of the ground which had been dammed around to receive it.

"It certainly is a great proceeding," was Fred's comment, when they finally turned away and started on their return to Columbina. "I don't wonder that those men get interested. It certainly is the greatest gamble of the age. One minute you have nothing, and the next, if you are lucky, the oil is pouring thousands of dollars into your pocket every week."

"It's the land of luck, all right enough," answered Fred.

"And you mustn't forget one thing," added Jack. "There are just as many failures as there are successes. There have been millions and millions of dollars sunk in Texas, Oklahoma and Kansas, and some promoters haven't got even a smell of oil for their money."

When the lads returned to the hotel they found that several letters had come in for them. One was from Jack's sister, and this he read with interest, and then passed it around to his cousins to peruse.

In her letter Martha wrote that she had heard from Ruth Stevenson's mother, who stated that Ruth's eyes were not in as good shape as the local doctor had hoped for and he had advised that a specialist be consulted.

"Gee, that's the worst yet!" said Jack, and his face showed his concern. "Poor Ruth! I do hope she comes out of it all right, and that very soon."

Both Jack and the others would have been more concerned had they known the truth, which was that Ruth had already been placed in the care of an eye specialist and been removed to that physician's private sanitarium. Pressed to tell the exact truth by Mr. Stevenson, the specialist had admitted that Ruth's eyes had suffered exceedingly, and that she was in danger of losing the sight of one of them and that that might possibly affect the other. As Mrs. Stevenson was very nervous already, the doctor had advised her husband to keep the truth to himself for the present and hope for the best.

Among the other letters received was one forwarded by Mary to her brother Fred. This was from Gif Garrison, and in the communication Gif told how he had heard in a roundabout way of Nappy and Slugger.

* * * * *

"It seems that there was once a man named Davenport in business with Mr. Martell," wrote Gif. "This Davenport is now down in the oil fields of Texas, and he has agreed, so I understand, to give Nappy and Slugger a chance to work for a company he has formed. So they are likely down there, and maybe you will meet them. They also say that Glutts and Werner used to correspond with Nappy and Slugger, so that it is just possible they will go down there too."

"Well, Glutts isn't here," said Fred, with a grin. "I guess that mix-up in New York was too much for him."

"If those fellows want to work for Carson Davenport they can do so," said Jack. "But they've got to keep their distance—Werner especially."

Late that evening there came a telegram for Jack. It was from his father, announcing the fact that he would have to remain in Wichita Falls for a day or two.

"Perhaps he's got to fix up some legal matters in connection with this Spell claim," suggested Fred.

There was not much to interest the boys around Columbina, and the next day hung rather heavily on their hands. They visited the general stores and also walked over to the depot and watched two of the trains come in. They saw Carson Davenport alight from one and hurry away as rapidly as possible, carrying a Gladstone bag with him.

"Hello! I wonder if he has been to Wichita Falls too," cried Jack.

"He certainly came from that direction," answered Fred. "But you must remember there are lots of other towns along the line."

The following afternoon found the four boys on a highway leading from Columbina to Derrickville. They had fallen in with an old oil prospector who knew Nick Ogilvie well, and this prospector had offered to take them over to Derrickville in his five-passenger touring-car.

"It's a great sight around Derrickville," said the man. "There are hundreds of oil wells in that vicinity. It's about the busiest place for miles around."

Warned by their previous experience, the boys had purchased some overalls and plain caps, and these they donned to protect their other clothing. They found the road to Derrickville deep in mud, and more than once it looked as if the car in which they were riding would get stuck. But Mr. Bradley was a good driver, and always managed somehow to get through.

"It ain't like driving on Broadway," he grinned, "but we've got to make the best of it."

Two hours later found the Rovers in Derrickville. They were left to shift for themselves, Mr. Bradley stating he would take them back to Columbina at five o'clock. They visited a dozen wells or more, and also the pumping station connected with a large pipe line, and then walked over to where the drilling of some new wells was in progress.

"Look!" shouted Fred suddenly. "Look! Am I mistaken, or is that Phil Franklin over there?"

He pointed to a distance, and then he and the others hurried to the spot. There, looking at the work which was going on around a new well, were the man and the boy they had once rescued from the freshet on the Rick Rack River.



CHAPTER XXIII

A QUEER SUMMONS

"Am I seeing straight, and is it really the Rovers?" exclaimed John Franklin, when confronted by the boys.

"You are seeing straight enough, Mr. Franklin," answered Fred, as he shook hands first with the father and then the son. "Is your claim around here?"

"No, our claim is some miles from here," answered John Franklin. "It's at a place called Pottown."

"I've heard of that place," said Jack, as he too shook hands, as did the others. "They say there are quite a few oil wells in that neighborhood."

"What have you done about your claim, if I may ask?" questioned Randy.

"Oh, I've got myself all straightened out," said Mr. Franklin, with a broad smile. "You see, when I got down here I played in luck right from the start. Those swindlers had got tired of trying to do something on my farm, and then I ran into an old friend of mine who was a lawyer. He took the matter up for me, and the swindlers got scared and all of them quit the claim over night; so I am now in sole possession."

"And have you struck oil?" asked Jack.

"No, I haven't got that far yet, but I have great hopes of going ahead. You see, I'm handicapped for money. I could get some capitalists interested, but they generally want the lion's share of the proceeds, and that I don't want to give them."

"I don't blame you," said Fred. "You ought to get the most of the money if the oil is found on your land."

"I'm telling dad to take his time," put in Phil Franklin. "The land won't run away, and the more oil wells that are producing around us, the more valuable our place will become."

"But what brought you young fellows down here?" questioned the man. "Are you on a sightseeing tour?"

"Not altogether," answered Jack. "My father is interested in a claim down here, and he allowed us to come along with him." And thereupon he gave some of the particulars.

John Franklin listened attentively to the story, and his eyes flashed angrily when the names of Tate and Jackson were mentioned.

"Those are the swindlers who were trying to do me out of my property!" he ejaculated. "And I'm of the opinion this Carson Davenport was in with them. They are a bunch of crooks, and nothing else. They ought all to be in prison."

"Well, they'll land there sooner or later if they don't look out," returned Fred.

"If I was your father I would have nothing to do with this Davenport or the men acting with him," went on Mr. Franklin to Jack.

"Do you know anything at all about the Lorimer Spell claim?"

"I don't know anything about what has happened lately so far as that claim is concerned," was John Franklin's reply. "But I do know when oil was first discovered in this region some of the experts went over the whole territory carefully and they did not consider the Spell claim as being of any value. That's the reason no wells were located there. They claimed that the geological formation was not good for oil."

"Oh! then you mean to say there is no oil on that claim?" questioned Fred disappointedly.

"I don't know anything about it, lad. I am only telling you what the experts said. Those fellows miss it once in a while, just the same as other people. At the same time, if an expert doesn't think ground is worth drilling for oil, you can make up your mind that the chances of striking it rich there are very slim."

"But are you sure the experts went over it very carefully?" questioned Andy.

"I am."

"And who were they?"

"They were from Wichita Falls—a firm by the name of Fitch and Lunberry."

"Then probably if my father wanted it he could get a report from Fitch and Lunberry," said Jack.

"I think he could—provided, of course, he was willing to pay for it. These experts don't work for nothing!" and John Franklin grinned.

"If you stay down here any length of time I wish you'd come over to our place and see us," said Phil Franklin.

"We'll be sure to do that," answered Randy.

"Maybe I can get your uncle interested in my land," suggested Mr. Franklin. "I wish he'd look it over. It wouldn't cost him anything."

"I'll speak to dad about it," answered Jack quickly. There was something about the Franklins which had pleased him ever since he had first known them. They appeared to be perfectly honest and reliable.

Accompanied by the Franklins, the Rovers tramped around the various oil wells located in and near Derrickville. Mr. Franklin understood a great deal about the wells and the machinery, and explained these things in an interesting way, so the afternoon passed quickly. Almost before they knew it the Rovers had to say good-bye and start on the return trip with Mr. Bradley.

"Gee, I wonder if what Mr. Franklin said about the Spell claim can be true!" remarked Jack, on the way to Columbina.

"He ought to know what he is talking about, Jack," answered Fred. "And certainly he had no axe to grind in the matter. He doesn't want to see Uncle Dick throw his money away."

Two more days passed, and still Dick Rover did not return from Wichita Falls. The boys went out sightseeing and amused themselves as best they could, but this was not saying much. The most fun they had was in a shooting-gallery where they astonished the proprietor by the bull's-eyes they made.

"You young fellows are some shots," said he. "You must be used to guns."

"We are," answered Fred.

The four Rovers had gone into the target gallery directly after supper and while it was still light. Now, when they came out, Jack suggested that they return to the hotel.

"We might send out a letter or two," he suggested, "and I'd like to look over a newspaper if I can find one."

The Rovers were heading in the direction of the hotel when, glancing across the street, they saw Nappy Martell and Slugger Brown.

"They seem to be watching us," declared Jack.

"Probably they'd like to know what we intend to do," answered Randy. "I think we might as well ignore them," he went on, as he saw Nappy and Slugger crossing the muddy roadway.

"Hello!" called Slugger coolly. "We've been looking for you fellows."

"Looking for us!" exclaimed Fred.

"Yes, we found out you were not at the hotel, and so we thought you must be somewhere around town."

"What do you want of us?" demanded Jack suspiciously.

"We came to see you on Gabe Werner's account," answered Nappy. As he spoke he showed that he was nervous.

"On Gabe Werner's account! What do you mean?"

"I guess you had better ask Gabe about that," answered Slugger. "He's very anxious to see all of you—wants to see you this evening, too."

"Where is he?"

"We left him at a house up on the Derrickville road. It's about half a mile or so out of town," answered Slugger.

"Is he sick?" questioned Fred.

"He's worse than that—he's down and out," answered Nappy. "But he said to tell all of you that he wanted to see you this evening sure—that to-morrow morning wouldn't do."

"See here, Nappy, is this some sort of trick?" demanded Jack bluntly. "If it is, I want to tell you right now it won't work."

"It's no trick. How could it be? We are all alone, and we're not armed. We are doing this solely because Gabe Werner asked us to do it. He couldn't come himself, not with a broken leg."

"Oh, then he has broken his leg, has he?" said Andy, with something of sympathy in his voice. "That, of course, is another matter." He turned to the others. "I'm willing to go and see him if you are."

"All right, let's go," put in Fred.

"We'll go," said Jack, after a few whispered words to Randy. "But you remember what I said, both of you. If this is a trick we'll see to it that you get the worst of it."

"You'll find out that it's no trick as soon as you get to the house," declared Slugger Brown.

He and Nappy Martell led the way, and soon the whole crowd had left Columbina behind and were trudging along the muddy road leading to Derrickville. The way was dark and anything but inviting, and all of them made slow progress.

"The house is over there in the field," said Slugger presently, as he came to a halt. "You needn't be afraid, because there are only a very old man and a woman living there. Gabe Werner has been boarding with them since he came down here."

"Are you fellows working for Carson Davenport?" questioned Randy.

"We expect to work for him, yes. But nothing has been settled as yet," answered Nappy. "He has offered us thirty dollars a week, but we think we can get more than that elsewhere," he added loftily.

"And what of Werner? Is he going to work with you?"

"That was the idea," answered Slugger. "But I don't know what he'll do now. He's certainly in bad shape."

"How did he get his leg broken?"

"He didn't tell us a word about it," answered Nappy. "There is something queer about the whole transaction. But he said he must see all of you Rovers and do it to-night. What he's got on his mind, I don't know."

The Rovers hardly knew what to do. They were unarmed, and the place certainly looked like a lonely one. They wondered if it would be possible for Carson Davenport and his crowd to be at the house waiting for them.

"You and Slugger go ahead," Jack said. "We'll follow behind. And mark you, no tricks!"

"There is nothing to be afraid of," Slugger assured him. And then he and Nappy stalked off in the fast-gathering darkness. They walked up to the lonely house, and disappeared around a corner of the building.

"Say, Jack, this doesn't look right to me at all," announced Fred. "I wish I had a pistol."

"I'm going to arm myself with a club," said Randy, and looked around for such a weapon.

The others did the same, two of them picking up sticks and the others arming themselves with stones. Then they advanced with caution, keeping their eyes wide open for the appearance of anything that might look dangerous.