“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.
“I don’t see any light around the place,” announced Jack, as they drew closer.
“I wonder what became of Nappy and Slugger?” broke in Fred. “I don’t see them anywhere.”
“Suppose we call them,” suggested Andy.
“Let us walk around the house first,” returned his twin. “They may have gone in by the back way. Most of the folks living around here use the back door for everything.”
With added caution the Rover boys walked slowly around one side of the building. In the rear they found everything as dark and deserted as in the front.
“This is certainly strange,” announced Jack. He advanced and knocked sharply on the closed door.
There was no reply, and he knocked a second time. Then Randy beat upon the door with his stick.
“It looks to me as if there wasn’t a soul in the place,” announced Andy. “I wonder what has become of Nappy and Slugger?”
“See here, will you?” cried Fred suddenly. “It looks to me as if nobody lived here. Every one of the windows is boarded up on the inside. I believe this house is being used for nothing but a storehouse. I don’t believe a soul lives here.”
“Hello, Nappy! Hello, Slugger!” called out Jack loudly. “Where are you?”
To this call there was no reply.
CHAPTER XXIV
DICK ROVER’S REVELATION
“We’ve been tricked!” exclaimed Randy.
“Just what I think!” burst out Fred. “They didn’t bring us here to see Gabe Werner at all!”
“There isn’t a soul around the building, that’s certain,” remarked Andy. “What do you suppose has become of Nappy and Slugger?”
The Rovers looked around in the fast-gathering darkness, but could see no one. Then they walked around the building several times, peering in all directions for a sight of the fellows who had brought them on this strange mission.
“It’s a storehouse, right enough,” announced Jack. “And my opinion is that everything is nailed up except the front door, and that, as you can see, has a padlock on it.”
It was certainly a mystery, and for the time being the Rover boys were unable to solve it. Looking down on the ground, they saw a number of footprints, but it was now too dark to follow any of these.
“Wish we had brought a pocket flashlight along,” remarked Fred.
“It’s getting as dark as a stack of black cats,” said Andy.
“Yes, and we had better be getting back to town before it gets so dark we lose our way,” returned Jack.
As it was, they had some difficulty in finding the path down to the road. Then they stumbled along in the darkness, occasionally heading into some mud hole up to their ankles.
“Nappy and Slugger certainly have the laugh on us for this,” said Fred, as they plowed along. “Maybe they thought we would lose our way completely in this darkness.”
It was a good half-hour before the Rovers reached the outskirts of Columbina. At a great distance they could see many twinkling electric lights, one of which hung on the top of every oil derrick. But these were so far off they did nothing towards illuminating the way.
“Almost ten o’clock,” announced Jack, consulting his watch. “About all we can do is to clean the mud from our shoes and go to bed.”
There was a sleepy young clerk behind the counter of the hotel, and he showed them where they could clean up.
“No bootblacks in Columbina,” said Randy, with a grin. And then all set to work with a whisk broom and brushes to clean up.
“I wonder if Uncle Dick will get in to-night,” remarked Fred. The last train to stop at Columbina was due in fifteen minutes.
“I think I’ll stay up and find out,” said Jack.
“You waiting for Mr. Rover?” demanded the boy behind the counter, as he yawned and stretched himself. “If you are, he came in a couple of hours ago.”
“Is that so!” cried Jack, in surprise. “Where is he now?”
“I think he’s up in his room, although I’m not sure. You see, I was out to a dance last night, and I’m pretty tired, and I fell asleep a couple of times sitting here doing nothing. Somehow or other, it seems to be an off night around this hotel. Nothing doing at all,” and the sleepy clerk yawned again.
“Maybe he’s up in his room looking over those papers he brought,” suggested Randy. “Come on up and see.”
All mounted the stairs to the third floor of the hotel. When they reached the room occupied by Dick Rover they found the door locked, and a rap upon it brought no response.
“He isn’t here, that’s sure,” said Jack. “Maybe he went out on an errand.”
“Unless he’s in our room,” said Fred. In the larger apartment which the four boys occupied there was a small table, and Jack’s father had several times come in to use this for writing purposes.
Jack had one of the keys to the room, and, stepping across the hallway, he attempted to insert this in the lock. Much to his surprise, the key would not go into the keyhole.
“That is strange——” he began, and then tried the door, to find it unlocked. Another key was on the i
nside.
The room was pitch dark, only a dim lamp being lighted in the rear of the long hallway. Jack stepped forward to get a match from a bureau, and as he did so he stumbled over something on the floor and pitched headlong.
“Oh!” he gasped, and then gave a sudden shudder, for he had felt the body of someone beside him. “Be careful,” he went on. “Make a light, quick! Here is someone on the floor! I’m afraid it’s dad!”
The others piled into the room, and Randy, who happened to have some matches in his pocket, struck a light and lit the lamp.
There, on the floor of the bedroom, lay Dick Rover. There was a small cut on his left temple from which the blood was flowing. He was breathing heavily, and evidently trying to speak.
“Dad! Dad! what happened to you?” cried Jack hoarsely, as he bent over and raised his parent up.
“He’s been hurt!” exclaimed Fred. “See the cut on his forehead. Wait—I’ll get some water.”
He made a dash for the pitcher and also for a towel, and while Jack supported his father on his arm the others bathed Dick Rover’s face and washed away the trickling blood.
“He’s been hit,” declared Randy. “See the lump on the back of his head,” and he pointed it out.
Presently Dick Rover opened his eyes and stared vacantly at the anxious lads.
“What—what—what happened to me?” he stammered and gave a gasp. “Who—who knocked me down?”
“That we don’t know, Dad,” answered Jack, and he was glad to realize that his parent was coming to his senses. “Gee! I was afraid you had been killed.”
The four boys raised Dick Rover up and laid him on one of the cots. They had a little first-aid kit with them, and from this they got some plaster with which they bound up the small cut.
It was some time before Dick Rover felt able to tell his story. In the meanwhile Fred dashed downstairs for some hot water, which was applied to the lump on the sufferer’s head.
“I guess I’ll get over it,” said Jack’s father, with a wan smile. “But they certainly did give it to me.” Then he gave a sudden start. “What about my papers? Are they safe?”
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