red.

"Yes, and evidently the second crowd want to stop them," returned Andy.

The excitement had attracted the attention of a number of people, and a
crowd of a dozen or more followed the boys to the railroad station, all
wondering what was the matter.

As soon as the first automobile reached the railroad platform a man
sprang from the car, holding a Gladstone bag in one hand and a suitcase
in the other. He looked back, and then made a wild dash for the train,
which was just rolling into the station.

"Look! It's Carson Davenport!" exclaimed Jack.

"And see who are after him--Tate, Jackson and three or four other men!"

"Stop, Davenport!" yelled one of the men. "Stop or I'll shoot!" and he
flourished a revolver, and another man in the crowd did the same. Then
the bunch jumped from the second automobile and dashed pell-mell toward
the train.

CHAPTER XXX

THE NEW WELL--CONCLUSION

Carson Davenport was halfway up the steps of the car when Jake Tate and
another man hauled him backward to the station platform.

"They've got him!" exclaimed Jack, as he and his cousins, along with the
rest of the gathering crowd, came closer.

"Hi! Hi! Let me alone!" yelled Davenport. "Don't shoot! What is the
meaning of this, anyway?"

"You know well enough what it means!" bellowed Tate, still clutching him
by the arm. "You come back here. You are not going to take that train or
any other just yet."

"And you're not going to carry off that bag, either," put in Jackson, as
he wrenched the Gladstone away.

By this time the crowd completely surrounded Carson Davenport, and the
pistols which had been drawn were speedily thrust out of sight. The oil
well promoter was pushed in the direction of the little railroad
station, and in the midst of this excitement the train pulled out.

"What's the rumpus about, anyway?" exclaimed one man in the crowd.

"Never mind what it's about," broke in Tate hastily. "This is our
affair."

"That's right--maybe we had better keep it to ourselves," muttered
Jackson.

"I don't believe in shielding him," cried one man who had chased
Davenport and who wore several soldier's medals on his vest. "He's a
swindler, and it's best everybody knew it. He was on the point of
lighting out for parts unknown with all the money that was put into his
oil wells up on the Spell ranch."

"Is that right?" burst out another man.

"It is. And Tate and Jackson know it as well as I do. I guess Davenport
ca