on?"

"Sorry! Not a bit of it! Up here there is more excitement to it than you
are aware of, and before you have finished your vacation, you will say
that the life of a civil engineer in the oil fields of Pennsylvania is
not by any means monotonous. But come this way. My team is here, and
while we are talking we may as well be riding, for we have quite a
little journey yet before us, over roads so bad, that you can form no
idea of them by even the most vivid description."

"But I thought you lived here in Bradford."

"I live where my work is, my boy, and since it happens just now to be
out of town, my home, for the time being, is in as old and comfortable a
farm-house as city-weary mortals could ask for."

"Well, I can't say that I shall be sorry to live in the country--for
awhile, at least."

"Sorry! Well, I hardly think you will be, when you learn what I have to
offer you in the way of enjoyment. I am locating some oil-producing
lands, in a valley where game is abundant, where the fish prefer an
artificial fly to a natural one, and where the moonlighter revels with
his harmless-looking but decidedly dangerous nitro-glycerine
cartridge."

"What do you mean by moonlighter?" asked Ralph, as he seated himself in
the mud-bespattered carriage which George pointed out as his.

"A moonlighter is one who shoots an oil well regardless of patent rights
or those owning them, save when, by chance, he finds himself gathered in
by the strong arm of the law."

"I thank you, Brother Harnett, for your decidedly clear explanation. I
almost fancy that I know as much about moonlighters now as when I asked
the question, which is saying a good deal, for you very often contrive,
in explaining anything, to leave one even more ignorant than when he
consulted you."

"If you are willing to listen to as long and as dry a dissertation on
oil wells in general, and illegally-opened ones in particular, as ever
Professor Gardner favored us with on topics in which we were not much
interested, I will begin, stopping now and then only to prevent my teeth
from being shaken out of my head as we ride over this road."

The two had hardly got out of the "city," and the thoroughly bad
character of the road was already apparent. Riding over it was very much
like sailing in a small boat on rough water--always down by the head or
up by the stern, but seldom on an even keel.

"Go on with the lecture," said Ralph, "and while I try to hold myself in
th