of the best
sort of oil wells. Why didn't your uncle clean up a fortune, to use a
slang term?"
"Because he lost the papers showing that he had a right to half the oil
well," answered Mary. "At least my uncle thinks he lost them, but he
was so ill, directly after the well proved a success, that he says he
isn't sure what happened. At any rate, his partner claims everything
and my uncle can do nothing. He has been hoping he might find the
papers somewhere, or that something would happen to prove the rights of
his claim."
"And nothing has?" inquired Tom.
"Not yet. My father and mother have been trying to help him, and dad
engaged a lawyer, but he says nothing can be done unless my uncle
recovers the partnership and other papers. As it stands now, it is my
uncle's word against the word of his partner, and both are equally good
in a court of law. But if Uncle Barton could find the documents
everything would come out all right. He could claim his half of the oil
well then."
"Is it still producing?" Tom questioned.
"Yes, better than ever. But that's all the good it does my uncle. He is
ill, discouraged, and despondent. All his fortune was eaten up in
prospecting, and he depended on the gusher to make him rich again. And
now, because of a rascally partner, he may be doomed to die a poor man.
Of course we will always help him, but you know what it is to be
dependent on relatives."
"I can imagine," conceded Tom. "It is tough luck! I wish I could help,
and perhaps I can after I get back from this trip."
"The only way you or any one could help, would be to get back my
uncle's missing papers," said Mary. "And as he himself isn't sure what
became of them, it seem hopeless."
"It does," Tom agreed. "But wait until I get back."
"I wish you weren't going," sighed Mary.
"So do I--more than a little," was Tom's remark. "I'm sorry I ever let
Mr. Damon persuade me to go into this deal with Dixwell Hardley!"
Mary sat bolt upright on the couch.
"What name did you say?" she cried.
"Dixwell Hardley," repeated Tom. "That's the name of the man who claims
to know where the wreck of the Pandora lies. He says she has two
millions or more in gold on board, and I'm to get half."
"Well!" exclaimed Mary, with spirit, "if you don't get any bigger share
out of the wreck than my uncle got out of the oil well, you won't be
doing so very nicely, Tom."
"What do you mean?" asked the young inventor. "What has the oil well to
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