er.

"Phew! how it smells of oil," remarked Randy, turning up his nose at the
dose.

"I guess we'll get our fill of oil before we get through, Randy,"
laughed Jack. "Some of these neighborhoods are saturated with oil from
end to end. The houses and barns are full of it, and so are the roads,
and they tell me even the things in the dining-rooms and bedrooms smell
of oil."

"And just see how black the stuff is," declared Fred. "It doesn't look
one bit like the oil we are used to using. It certainly needs a lot of
refining."

"And just think of the hundred and one things that come from it," said
Jack. "Kerosene and gasoline, and benzine and naphtha and paraffin, and
I don't know what all."

The middle of the afternoon found them at the place where the new well
was to be brought in--that is, provided everything went well, the the
head workman told them, with a grin. He was a good-natured Irishman with
body and clothing saturated with oil from head to foot.

"'Tis not a noice way av makin' a livin'," he announced. "But 'tis clane
money one gits in his pocket."

"Yes, and you haven't got to stay here forever," answered Jack, with a
smile. "After you've made your pile you can go to some place more
agreeable."

"Sure, an' that's true, Son, so 'tis," said the foreman.

He explained to them how the well had been drilled and how the charges
had been lowered. They had tested out the well at eighteen hundred feet,
but without success. Now they were down twenty-six hundred feet, and the
indications for oil were decidedly good.

At length came the moment for shooting off the well. Some of the
woodwork surrounding the derrick had been removed, and all the electric
connections were pronounced in good working order. Then the boys and the
others who had assembled were ordered back to a safe distance.

It was a thrilling moment, and no one felt it more than the four Rovers.
They waited a few minutes, and then came a dull rumble, shaking the
ground as if by an earthquake. Then they saw something shoot skyward,
and then came a sudden rain of black oil, flying and spattering in all
directions.

"They've struck it! They've struck it!" yelled Andy excitedly. "They've
struck oil!"

"Gee, but I'll bet that makes them feel good," announced Fred. "That
well must have cost a lot of money."

"Forty thousand dollars, the foreman said," came from Jack. "Come on,
let us get back unless we want our clothing ruined." For the wind was
s