d seen them
handle that which had been used at the Hoxie well, on the famous night
when Mr. Newcombe guarded their hut for them.

As each tube was filled, the boys lowered it into position in the well,
and the nervous anxiety which had assailed them the night before again
took possession of Ralph and George.

At last everything was ready for the launching of the iron bolt, which
was to call into activity the explosive mass, that was to shatter the
rock under which it was hoped the oil was concealed. The moment had come
when the value or worthlessness of "The Harnett" was to be decided.

CHAPTER XXXI.

THE SHOT.

It is barely possible that when Bob stood over the aperture with the
iron poised in his hands which was to be the means of opening to them
the mystery of the well, there was just a shade of fear at his heart
that he had been mistaken in the signs, and that an upward rush of
water, would be all that would follow the explosion.

His partners noted a look of almost painful hesitation on his face for
an instant, and, then, as it vanished, he dropped the go-devil,
retreating to where the group of anxious watchers were gathered around
George's chair.

The seconds that followed the dropping of the iron were wonderfully long
ones, and it seemed as if each one present ceased to breathe, as the
time had come when the value or worthlessness of the well was to be
decided.

Then was heard three distinct reports, somewhat louder than had been
heard at the Hoxie well, because of the charge being nearer the surface
of the earth, and this was followed by the black, noisome vapor that
wreathed slowly around the aperture as if sent by the demons of the
earth to keep back those venturesome mortals who would seek to penetrate
their secrets.

No one spoke, and each eye was riveted upon the mouth of the well, to
read there the story which was soon told. First came a shower of water,
breaking into drops as it reached the surface, sparkling in the sun like
diamonds, and then uprose, not slowly and waveringly as Ralph had seen
it once before, but shooting quickly in the air, a transparent, greenish
column of oil, that broke amid the timbers of the derrick, shattering
into splinters the smaller joists and scattering them in every
direction.

It was clearly and unmistakably oil, not in any small quantity, or sent
with any slight force; but a discharge which, from its volume and
intensity, showed how vast was the reser