electric runabout, a car in which
he had once made a sensational ride.
"Perilous? I don't know why you call it that!" exclaimed the young
inventor.
"Didn't you tell me you were stuck in a mud bank away down under the
river and had hard work to get loose?" asked the young lady, as she
made a place for Tom on the sofa beside her.
"Oh, that! Why, that wasn't anything!" he declared.
"It would have been if you hadn't come up."
"Ah, but we did come up, Mary."
"Suppose you get in a similar position when you find the wreck of the
Pandora? You won't get up so easily, will you?"
"No. But there aren't any mud banks in that part of the Atlantic, so I
can't be stuck in one," answered Tom.
For some time Tom Swift and Mary talked of mutual friends and
happenings in which they were both interested. Mr. and Mrs. Nestor
stepped into the room for a minute, to wish the young inventor good
luck on his voyage, and when they had gone out, promising to see Tom
before he left for the night, the latter remarked to Mary:
"Did your uncle ever find the oil-well papers and get his affairs
straightened out?"
"No," was the answer, "he never did. And we feel very sorry for him.
Just think, he had a fortune in his grasp, and now it is slipping away."
"Just what happened?" asked Tom, hoping there might be some way in
which he could aid Mary's uncle. Of course, Tom wanted to help Mary,
and this was one of the ways.
"Well, I don't exactly understand it all," she replied. "Father says
I'll never have a head for business. But as nearly as I can tell, my
uncle, Barton Keith, went into partnership with a man to prospect for
oil in Texas. My uncle has been in that business before, and he was
very successful. He supplied the working knowledge about oil wells, I
believe, and the other man put up the money. My uncle was to have a
half share in whatever oil wells he located, and his partner supplied
the cash for putting down the pipe, or whatever is done."
"I believe putting down a pipe is the proper term," said Tom.
"Well, anyhow," went on Mary, "my uncle spent many weary months
prospecting in Texas. In fact, he made himself ill, being out in all
sorts of weather, looking after the drilling. At last they struck oil,
as I believe they call it. They drilled down until they brought in what
my uncle called a 'gusher,' and there was a chance of him and his
partner getting rich."
"Why didn't he?" asked Tom. "A gusher, I believe, is one
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