ool wrote out a so-called will leaving you everything he
possessed, I reckon he rather put his foot into it," finished Davenport
significantly.

Jack's father and the boys were, of course, astonished, and even
Davenport's companions showed that this was something they had not been
expecting. The men crowded around to find out what was coming next.

"Davenport, I'll have to ask you to explain yourself!" exclaimed Dick
Rover, and strode forward, his eyes flashing.

"Want me to explain myself, do you?" cried the oil promoter savagely.
"All right, then, I will. According to reports Lorimer Spell ran out
ahead of you in that fight, and then he was shot in the back. Do you
understand that--shot in the back! Well, who did it? Certainly not the
Germans. They were in front of him."

"Do you mean to insinuate that I or one of our other men shot Spell?"
demanded Dick Rover, and now his face was almost white.

"He had made a will in your favor--you were the only one to profit by
his death."

"You cur, you!" cried Dick Rover. And beside himself with righteous
anger, he sprang forward and planted a blow on Carson Davenport's chin
that made the oil well promoter stagger back and fall flat.

"Hi! Hi! None of that around here!" bellowed Jake Tate, and caught Dick
Rover by the arm.

"You get back there," was the quick reply. "This is none of your affair.
This man has accused me of something, and he is going to take it back."

"You let my father alone!" broke in Jack, and rushed toward Tate,
followed by Randy and Nick Ogilvie. Then the fellow fell back. Jackson
viewed the contest in silence.

By this time Carson Davenport was struggling to his feet. He was in a
terrible rage and came at Dick Rover blusteringly.

"What do you mean by hitting me that way, Rover?" he howled.

"You take back what you said, Davenport. If you don't I'll give you
another one!" exclaimed Jack's father.

"I'll take back nothing."

"All right, then--here goes!" And once more Dick Rover's fist shot out,
and again the oil well promoter measured his length on the ground.

This time as he arose he put his hand behind him in his hip pocket. But
before he could draw any weapon, if such was his intention, Dick Rover
was on him and had his arms pinioned.

"There'll be no shooting here, Davenport. You try it, and you'll get the
worst of it. Now, then, you take back what you said!" and Dick Rover
shoved his clenched fist under the other's nose.

Carson D