but
little could be heard from such a distance beneath the surface.

"Look out for the gases!" cried George.

And as Ralph covered his nose and mouth with his handkerchief, he could
see a black vapor, almost like smoke, arising from the mouth of the
well.

"There is no oil there," he said to himself, as second after second went
by and there was no appearance of anything save the gases of combustion.
He was almost as disappointed as Mr. Hoxie would have been at finding a
"dry well;" for after all his tedious waiting he hoped to have been
rewarded by seeing the "shoot" of the oil.

He was rather surprised that Bob's face showed no signs of
disappointment, for he surely must have wanted to see oil after his
dangerous work. But Bob simply looked expectant, with his gaze fixed on
the mouth of the well, and Ralph turned again just in time to see a most
wonderful sight.

From out of the mouth of the well arose what appeared to be a solid
column of greenish yellow, rising slowly in the air like one of the
pillars of Aladdin's palace as it was formed by the genii. The top was
rounded, and the sides of this marvelous column, held together only by
some mighty force, shone in the moonlight like a polished surface of
marble, while all the time it arose inch by inch without fret or check,
until the top wavered in the night wind. Then one or two drops could be
seen rolling off from the summit, and in an instant the entire
appearance changed.

With a mighty bound the oil leaped into the air, tearing asunder the
summit of the derrick as if it had been of veriest gossamer, dashing the
heavy timbers aside like feathers, and spouting in the pale light drops
as of molten gold.

For a radius of twenty feet around the well the air seemed filled with
this liquid gold that was coming from the very bowels of the earth.

The oil poured out in torrents with a sharp, hissing noise that told how
great was the volume of gas imprisoned beneath the rock, which was
sending this oily deluge out, and the question of the value of the well
was decided.

"It's good for two hundred barrels a day!" cried Bob.

And Mr. Hoxie, who would reap this rich harvest, insisted that it would
produce very much more than that.

The damage done to the derrick was not heeded by the owner since the
destructive agent was worth just so much money per barrel to him.

After spouting to a height of fully two hundred feet, for nearly ten
minutes, the volume of oil,