The boys looked around, but saw no papers of any kind in the room.
“I had them in my bag. I brought them in here to look them over, and to do some writing at the table.”
“Well, there’s no bag here now, or papers either,” announced Randy.
“Then those rascals must have taken them! That was probably why they knocked me down. They wanted to rob me.”
“But who attacked you, Dad?” questioned Jack.
“That I don’t know, Son. I was seated at the table with the open bag beside me, and was looking over some of the documents I had brought from the safe deposit vault in Wichita Falls when I heard a noise behind me near the door. I was just about to get up to see what it meant, when all of a sudden I received a terrible crack on the back of the head. I turned around, and then somebody aimed another blow at me that caught me on the left temple. Then everything seemed to dance before my eyes, and I guess I must have gone down in a heap on the floor. And that’s all I knew until I found you supporting me and bathing my forehead.”
“It must have been those oil-well fellows!” ejaculated Fred.
“I think I see a light!” almost shouted Jack. “Nappy and Slugger were in this plot. They made us go away out of town just so we wouldn’t be here with my dad when the other fellows attacked him!”
“I guess you’re right,” answered Randy.
“What’s this you are saying?” questioned Dick Rover, rather feebly.
In a few words the boys explained the trick Nappy Martell and Slugger Brown had played on them.
“Yes, I guess you are right. It must have been a part of the game,” said Jack’s father. “And are you sure my bag and everything that was in it are gone?”
“Yes, there isn’t a single paper in this room,” answered Jack. “And when we came up we found the door to your room locked, so it isn’t likely they are there.”
“They must have dug out the minute they knocked me over and got the papers,” answered Dick Rover. “Probably they were afraid you or somebody else might come up and catch them at their dastardly work. As it is, it is queer somebody didn’t see them.”
“There happens to be no one down in the office but the young clerk, and he’s half asleep,” answered Randy. “Besides that, those fellows may have come in by the back way. Did you catch sight of them at all?”
“I can’t say that I did, Randy. The first blow dazed me, and while I remember something of two or three forms, it is all so vague that it amounts to nothing. I rather think, however, that there were at least three men.”
“And if there were, I’ll bet a new hat those men were Davenport, Tate, and Jackson,” returned Jack firmly.
“You may be right, Son. But you know what they say in court: It is one thing to know the truth, and quite another to be able to prove it.”
“But who would want to steal those papers if not Davenport and his crowd?” questioned Randy. And then he added hurriedly: “Did they rob you of anything else, Uncle Dick?”
“I don’t think so.” Dick Rover felt in his pockets. “No, my money and watch and my diamond ring are all safe. If they had been ordinary thieves they would certainly have taken everything of value.”
“Our baggage doesn’t seem to be disturbed,” said Andy, who was looking around. “I guess you are right—they were after those documents and nothing else.”
There was a pause, and suddenly the boys saw a queer smile pass over Dick Rover’s face, and then he uttered a peculiar whistle.
“What is it, Dad?” said Jack wonderingly. He knew that his father had a habit of whistling in that fashion when something struck him as funny.
“I was just thinking that perhaps those fellows who robbed me had taken a white elephant off my hands,” returned Dick Rover.
“Why, what do you mean by white elephant?” questioned Andy.
“I mean that maybe they are fighting tooth and nail to get possession of something which I might be only too glad to give them for nothing.”
“Oh, Dad, are you talking about the Lorimer Spell claim?” questioned Jack.
“Yes.”
“But I don’t understand.”
“Of course you don’t. But maybe you will after I’ve told my story. As you know, I went to Wichita Falls mainly to get the documents which Lorimer Spell had stored away in the safe deposit vault of a bank there. Well, I got the documents, and in looking them over found that while Lorimer Spell’s claim to the land seemed to be fairly well established, still there was something of a cloud to the title—the cloud of which Carson Davenport and his crowd are taking advantage. But more than that, I found that a firm of oil experts named Fitch and Lunberry had gone over the property both for Spell and for an oil promoter who had thought to put some money into operations there. So then I called on the firm and had a long talk with Mr. Fitch.”
“And what did Mr. Fitch have to say about the land?” asked Jack quickly.
“He was very frank to say that in his opinion there was no oil of any kind on the claim. He told me that he knew Lorimer Spell very well, and that while Spell was all right in the main, he had been daffy on the subject of oil, so much so that it had just about turned the poor fellow’s brain until he imagined that there was fabulous wealth in oil on every acre he possessed. Mr. Fitch got down to facts and figures, and showed me all of his deductions, and he said that it was his honest opinion that any money spent on the Lorimer Spell claim would be utterly wasted.”
CHAPTER XXV
DAVENPORT’S ACCUSATION
“Then the Lorimer Spell claim is positively no good!” exclaimed Jack.
“I wouldn’t say that exactly, Jack. No claim down here can be said to be worthless until it has actually been bored for oil. It is just possible that those oil experts may be mistaken. At the same time, from what Mr. Fitch said, I would be very slow about putting money in that land.”
“It’s too bad, Uncle Dick, if that claim’s no good when we all supposed it would be so wonderful,” came from Fred, and his face showed his disappointment.
“Well, I haven’t lost anything,” answered his Uncle Dick. “I feel a great deal better than if I had sunk thirty or forty thousand dollars in a dry hole.”
Andy began to snicker.
“Gee! it’s rich, Uncle Dick, to pass Davenport and that crowd the white elephant,” he chuckled. “I only hope they get bit bad, especially if they were the rascals who came here and knocked you out.”
“They must have been the crowd, because no one else would be interested in those documents. They knew I was going to Wichita Falls to get them, and they probably hung around waiting for my return. And they probably got Martell and Brown to get you boys out of the way. The story about Gabe Werner having a broken leg was probably faked up.”
“Nappy admitted that he and Slugger expected to work for the Davenport crowd,” said Jack. “They are all tarred with the same stick, and I hope they get stuck bad.”
“Uncle Dick, why don’t you pretend to be terribly put out over the fact that you have lost your interest in the claim?” cried Andy. “That will throw them completely off the track. Let them imagine that you think there is a lot of oil to be found there.”
“I’ll think it over and at the same time I’ll think over what other investments I might make while I’m down here. But just at present I think I’ll try to get a good night’s sleep and reduce this swelling on my head,” added Jack’s father, as he felt of the bump tenderly.
“I know one person who would like you to interest yourself in his claim!” exclaimed Jack. “That is Mr. John Franklin, the man we saved from drowning in the Rick Rack River freshet.”
Thereupon the boys told of their meeting with Mr. Franklin and Phil, and also related what particulars they knew concerning the man’s land and how he had gotten it out of the clutches of the oil sharpers.
“That mi
ght be worth looking into,” said Dick Rover. “I’ll take it up a little later, after I feel better, and after I have had it out with Davenport and his crowd.”
The boys assisted Jack’s father to his room and Jack aided him in retiring. Meanwhile Randy went down to interview the sleepy hotel clerk.
“That fellow doesn’t know a thing about what happened,” announced Randy on his return. “Those men must have come in and gone out while he was taking a snooze. And as luck would have it for those rascals, no one else seems to have been around.”
With nothing of special importance to do, the whole crowd slept late on the following morning, which was Sunday. Dick Rover was glad to take it easy, but declined to have a physician when that was suggested.
“It was only an ordinary blow, and did nothing more than knock me out for a little while,” said he. “The swelling on my head is gradually going down, and that little cut on the temple doesn’t amount to much.”
“Those men ought all to be put in prison!” burst out Fred.
“Possibly you are right, Fred. But you must remember that you are now in a section of the country where living is rather rough. A new oil town and a new mining camp are pretty much on the same level. You often have to take the law into your own hands and fight your way through the best you can. Later there will be regular law and order, and then matters will run more smoothly.”
Dick Rover did not mention the matter to the boys, but from that day on he went armed, resolved to take no more chances should any of the oil land swindlers attack him again.
Two more days passed, and during that time the boys visited a number of localities in that vicinity, trying to catch sight of Nappy and Slugger, and also Werner. But those three unworthies did not show themselves.
“They know we’ve got it in for them,” declared Jack. “They’ll keep in hiding until they think this affair has blown over.”
On the third day Dick Rover felt quite like himself, and he hired an automobile to take him and the boys, as well as Nick Ogilvie, to the Lorimer Spell claim. Somewhat to his surprise, he found Carson Davenport on the land, along with Tate and Jackson and half a dozen other men. More oil-well machinery had been brought up and dumped in a spot near the brook.
“What’s the meaning of this, Davenport?” questioned Jack’s father shortly.
“It means that I’m going to work on my own hook, Rover,” answered Davenport, and there was a sneer in his voice. “I’ve got tired of trying to make a deal with you, and I’ve come to the conclusion that your claim is no good.”
“I think I understand you perfectly,” answered Dick Rover, and looked at the man so sharply that Davenport had to drop his eyes. “You think you have everything your own way, eh?”
“Never mind what I think. If you’ve got any real claim on this property you show the evidences. That little paper that Lorimer Spell wrote out on the battlefield of France doesn’t hold water with me. You’ve got to show me the deeds, and all that sort of thing.”
“A man can’t show papers when he has been robbed of them,” went on Jack’s father pointedly.
“Humph! So that’s your latest story, is it, Rover? First when I asked you for the papers you said they were in a safe deposit vault in Wichita Falls.”
“So they were. But now I have been robbed of them, and you know it.”
“I know it? Say, Rover, are you going crazy? I don’t know any such thing,” and now Davenport put on an assumption of anger.
“I say you do know it—you and your whole crowd!” retorted Dick Rover. “This land is a tract said to be full of oil, and you want to do me out of my rights.” And now Jack’s father appeared to warm up.
“Rover, I’ve had enough of your bluffing, and I won’t stand for any more of it!” cried Carson Davenport. “You may be able to put up a big front with some folks, but it won’t go with me. I claim that this land is mine, and I won’t pay any more attention to what you say until you produce those precious papers that you have said so much about. And even then I may not listen to you. My private opinion is that the army authorities ought to take up your case and make an example of you,” went on the oil promoter, with more of a sneer than before.
“The army authorities?” questioned Dick Rover, puzzled.
“That’s what I said. I’ve heard a thing or two about you. It was all well enough for you to pull Spell in and get a medal for doing it. But when that poor fool 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 Davenport could bluster, but at heart he was more or less of a coward. He tried to retreat, and as Jack’s father followed him up he mumbled some words about there being a mistake and that he had not meant to say just what Jack’s father had imagined.
“Poor Lorimer Spell was shot by the Huns,” said Dick Rover, for the benefit of the other men standing around. “He had gone on ahead of our party, and then, finding out his mistake, he was in the act of turning around to get back in line when the shot struck him that killed him. To say that he was shot down by any of his own crowd is a wicked falsehood. Half a dozen men of our command can prove every word of what I have said.”
“You’ll rue the day you pitched into me, Rover,” grumbled Davenport, but took good care to keep out of reach.
“You brought it on yourself,” retorted Jack’s father. “And now, as for this claim,” he added, after a slight pause. “As all of my papers have been stolen I presume I can do nothing, eve
n though this land may be the most valuable in oil in this vicinity. But I will watch the turn of affairs, and if I get a chance to prove anything I’ll do it.”
“You show me your papers, and if they are all right, I’ll see that you get what is coming to you,” mumbled Davenport. “But just the same, let me repeat—I don’t believe there are any papers. The whole thing was a faked-up story to get me to give up my claim.” Davenport was nursing his bruised chin. “And don’t forget that you knocked me down when you had no right to do it,” he added uglily.
“Are you going to sink a well here?”
“That’s our business.”
“What’s the use of trying to hide it, anyhow?” put in Jake Tate. “Yes, we’re going to sink a well here just as soon as we can get our machinery in working order.”
“And we’re going to do it with our own money. We’re not asking any assistance from you,” added Jackson.
“All right, then, go ahead,” said Dick Rover. “I have no more to say—at least for the present.” And then, motioning to the four boys and Nick Ogilvie to follow him, he withdrew.
CHAPTER XXVI
NEWS OF RUTH
“I guess they are pretty sure there is oil on that land,” chuckled Andy, as the whole party got aboard the automobile and started back for town.
“I hope they sink about a hundred thousand dollars in that ground and get nothing for their trouble,” added his twin.
“Gee, Dad, you certainly did soak Davenport a couple!” cried Jack admiringly.
“I did it on the spur of the moment, Son. I couldn’t help it,” declared Dick Rover. “It was too great an insult to pass unnoticed.”
“And to think he didn’t have the nerve to fight back!” added Fred. “I didn’t imagine he was such a coward.”
“Well, I was surprised at that myself,” answered his uncle, with something of a smile. “But now listen to me, boys,” he added seriously. “Don’t think because I flew into Davenport that that is the right thing to do under all circumstances. He simply got me going before I knew it. Ordinarily fighting doesn’t pay, and I want you to know it.”
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