Ralph Gurney's Oil Speculation

Up to this time the horses had trotted slowly; but on entering the town, Bob set the example of driving faster, and all three teams were urged along at full speed.

It surely seemed as if the moving of the moonlighters' property was to be accomplished without difficulty, for the outskirts of Sawyer had nearly been passed before any sign was made that they had been observed, and then the clattering of horses' hoofs was heard, at the same time that a voice cried:

"Halt!"

The time had come when Ralph was to learn whether Bob was making a cat's-paw of him or not, and the suspicions he had had fast became certainties.

No reply was made by the moonlighters; but the horses were urged to still greater speed, and the race had begun.

"Don't drive so fast!" said Ralph, believing the time had come for him to act in George's behalf.

"Why not?" asked Jim, coolly. "They'll overhaul us if we don't put on all steam."

"And what if they do? This is Harnett's team, and there is no reason why we should run away."

"What about all these things that are in here?"

"There is nothing here but what we have a perfect right to carry, and I know that George will be angry by running away from the officers with his team, which is probably well known. We seem to be doing something which we have no right to do," said Ralph, sternly, at the same time that he endeavored to get possession of the reins.

"Look out! Don't make a fool of yourself!" cried Jim, sharply.

And he urged the horses on until he had worked them up into such a state that it required all his strength to hold them.

To have attempted to seize the reins then would simply have been to capsize the buggy, for the road was so rough that the least deviation from the beaten track, at the pace the horses were then going, would have been fatal, and Ralph was obliged to acquiesce in the flight by remaining perfectly quiet.

On the horses dashed as if bent on the destruction of the carriage. Behind could be heard the clatter of hoofs, as the pursuers did their best to overtake the violators of the law, and in the advance was the carriage, with its deadly load, that the least concussion would liberate in all its dreadful power.

CHAPTER X.

THE RETURN

In the excitement of the flight, and the sorrow caused by the thought of the injury which was being done his friend, in which he was forced, unwillingly, to take part, Ralph almost entirely forgot the dangerous load in advance, until an exclamation of triumph from Jim caused him to look ahead, when he discovered that Bob was no longer in sight.

Ralph was almost certain that they had just passed the road that led to the new camp, and equally positive that Bob had driven in at that point, but there was nothing to show that the torpedo-wagon had been driven in there, and Jim was too much occupied with his efforts to keep in advance of his pursuers to answer a question, or even to speak.

George's horses, of whom he was so fond that he would never allow them to be forced to full speed, were urged by both whip and word until they could no longer trot, but were running madly on, while the light carriage swayed from one side of the road to the other, until it seemed certain it would be overturned.

Ralph was powerless to prevent such use of his friend's property, but he entered his protest against it by saying:

"This matter of using George's team to permit your own to escape is something on which I have not been consulted, nor have I been permitted to say anything about it. I think I understand why Hubbard got me away from the stream before George came down, and I say to you now, as I shall say to both of your friends, that it is a mean piece of business, and one which I would do all in my power to prevent if it was possible for me to do so without running the risk of doing more harm than good."

"Oh, that's all right," replied Jim, as he tried to urge the already nearly-exhausted horses to still greater exertions.

But Ralph had no idea as to what he meant by "all right." If he meant that there was no harm in driving at such a mad pace, Ralph was certain he was wrong, and if he wished to convey the impression that Harnett would not be angry, the young student was equally certain he was mistaken.

The sounds made by the pursuers seemed to be dying away in the distance, as if the pace was too fast for them, and as Dick guided his team skillfully into the woods, two miles beyond where Bob had disappeared; Jim gave vent to another yell of triumph.

The moonlighters' property was safe, and it only remained to be seen how much Harnett was to suffer by the flight.

The now thoroughly maddened horses were dashing along the rough road at a most reckless pace, and Ralph shuddered at the thought of what the result might be if they should meet any teams either coming or going. But, fortunately, it was so late in the night that thus far they had seen no travelers, and the only hope was that they would be equally successful until the wild flight was ended.

On and on Jim urged the horses, with no signs of checking their speed, until finally, when it was no longer possible to hear any sounds from the rear, Ralph said:

"I don't hear any one behind, and if you do not pull the horses up soon, you will ruin them, if, indeed, you have not done so already."

As near as Ralph could judge, they were fully ten miles beyond the place where Bob had left the road, when Jim began to quiet the frightened animals, and before another mile had been traveled, he had succeeded so far as to make them sober down to a walk.

Guiding them to one side of the road, where it chanced to be very broad, Jim brought them to a full stop, and Ralph leaped out to examine them.

The glossy coats of the beautiful animals were wet with perspiration, and covered with foam until they looked like white horses marked with small patches of black; their red, dilating nostrils and heaving flanks told of the effect the mad pace had had upon them, and they looked as if it would have been impossible for them to have run another mile.

Ralph even believed that they were already exhausted, and that they were utterly ruined; but Jim treated his fears as childish, being hardly willing to follow out the suggestions made.

"If they are not foundered already they will be unless we do something for them at once. Let's rub them down thoroughly, and then start them back at a walk."

Jim objected to doing what he considered useless work, and would have started the exhausted animals on the return at once, if Ralph had not assumed a tone that startled him.

"During the ride I held my peace, because I could do no good; but now I want you distinctly to understand that you will do as I say in regard to caring for these horses, or there will be trouble between us. I should not hesitate for a moment, after what you have done, to leave you here and drive back alone."

"You might not hesitate, providing you could get me out of the carriage," replied Jim, pertly; "but I might have something to say if you should attempt any interference."

"Look here, Mr. James Lansel," said Ralph, decidedly, trying not to betray by his voice the anger he felt, "you will please understand now that I have interfered, and that I shall do exactly what I say. You will come out here and help me to care for these horses you have abused, or I shall endeavor to prove to your entire satisfaction which one of us is master."

While Ralph had been speaking he had unfastened the traces of the horses, and by the time he concluded, one of the animals was clear from the carriage. Had he not done so it is extremely probable that Jim might have tried to run away and leave him, instead of being left. As it was, however, he apparently did not think it either a pleasant or a safe operation to measure strength with a boy fresh from school, and after a moment's hesitation, in a very sulky sort of way he alighted, doing as Ralph had commanded.

The gallant little steeds were rubbed down well with dried grass; Ralph rinsed their mouths out as cleanly as possible with water from the side of the road, but taking good care not to allow them any to drink, and for an hour the two boys – one through fear, and the other because of his care for his friend's property – did all they could for the comfort of the animals.

During all this time Jim had not spoken once, and Ralph was quite content to let him sulk as much as he wished; he felt as though Jim and his partners had done him a grievous wrong in placing him in such a position as made it seem that he had aided in the abusing and temporary theft of George's horses, and if the entire party of moonlighters chose to be angry with him he did not care.

At the end of the hour Ralph said to the still angry, injured Jim:

"We will harness them now, and I will drive on the way back."

"You can do just as you please," replied Jim, "I've got nothing to do with it, and I wash my hands of the whole affair."

"You may wash your hands of this portion of the affair as much as you please; but you'll take the full share of responsibility for having driven out here."

Jim made no reply, which was a matter of but little moment, so Ralph thought; but he assisted in harnessing the horses, and when that was done, he took his seat in the carriage like a martyr.

Ralph followed him, and, gathering up the reins, he allowed the horses to choose their own gait going back, a tenderness towards animals that Jim looked upon with the most supreme contempt.

As a matter of course, their progress was very slow, for the animals were so weary that they had no desire to go faster than a walk; and still, without speaking, the two boys rode on, occupying three hours in returning over the same distance they had come in one.

To find in the night the place into which Bob had driven was an extremely difficult task, and more than once did Ralph stop the horses by the side of the road, calling vigorously to George, in the belief that they had reached the new quarters of the moonlighters.

It was not until after they had made four such mistakes that they heard George's voice in reply, and then he and Pete came out to lead the horses in through the thicket of bushes that screened the entrance of the road.

Ralph saw at once by the look on his friend's face, and the solicitude with which he examined his horses, that Bob had told the first portion of the story, which had been more than displeasing to him.

"Did you drive all the way, Ralph?" he asked.

And his tone was far from being as friendly as usual.

"I had nothing whatever to do with the horses or the trip, except to help rub them down when we stopped, and to drive home," replied Ralph, almost indignant that George should think even for a moment that he would have countenanced such a thing.

Harnett said no more then, but busied himself in caring for the animals by unharnessing and feeding them.

Jim soon joined his partners in the hut, and after he had gone, George asked Ralph for the particulars of the chase, which were given minutely.

After he had finished the story, not without several interruptions from George, he asked:

"How long are you going to stay here?"

"Only until morning. I would have gone home to-night if the horses had not had such a long and hard drive; but as it is, we can do no better than to stay here a while, and early in the morning we will say good-by to Mr. Bob Hubbard and his partners, trying to get out of the trouble they have placed us in as cheaply as possible."

"Why, is there anything new?" asked Ralph, anxiously.

"Nothing save this last scheme of Bob's, and that is quite enough. I don't consider shooting wells as anything really illegal, for I do not believe that the patent can be held. But when it comes to violating a town ordinance by carrying a large quantity of nitro-glycerine through it in the manner Bob did, I consider a great wrong has been done, for it endangers the lives of every one living there. We shall probably hear from it very soon, for my team is well known in Sawyer. Then again, Bob knew that such a thing would injure me seriously in my business. I set myself up as civil engineer, and thereby ask people to employ me. That they will have every reason to refuse to do when they see me mixed up with Bob Hubbard's mad actions."

Ralph had thought the matter serious enough before; but now he understood from what George had said just how much trouble might grow out of it, and all the anger he had felt during the ride was revived.

"I wish I had stopped the horses, as I had a mind to do during the drive, regardless of whether I smashed the carriage or not," he said, bitterly. "I felt that things were going wrong in some way when I first left here with Bob, but I didn't know in what way, and what he said was so practical that I couldn't give a single good reason as to why I should not do as he said."

"I'm not blaming you, Ralph, for I know as well as you do that it was not your fault. It was a portion of one of Bob's schemes, and, without caring how much he has injured us, he is probably congratulating himself on its perfect success. But come, let's go and lie down for a little while, and when we do get away from here in the morning, we will be careful not to place ourselves where Bob can use us again."

CHAPTER XI.

THE STORM IN THE VALLEY

Judging from appearances, when they entered the new cabin of the moonlighters, Ralph concluded that George had said some hard things to Bob because of the part he had obliged him to play. When the two went in to get the few hours of sleep they needed so sadly, for they had been awake during all of the previous night, no one spoke. They were all having what Ralph afterward described as a grand sulking match; but neither one of their guests paid the slightest attention to their ill humor.

It was then very late in the night, and, tired as each one was, it was but a few moments before the camp was in a state of complete repose, from which neither moonlighter, engineer nor student awakened until the sun had been looking in upon them nearly an hour.

If Bob had been cross the previous evening, his sleep had restored him to his usual good humor, and he greeted Ralph and George with the cheeriest of smiles.

"I say, old fellow," he began, when Harnett returned from making his toilet at the brook-side, "I realize that we played you a dirty kind of a trick in using your team as we did last night; but at the time I was so anxious to get everything over here all right that I did not stop to think about it. Of course, I can't undo what has been done, but if any money trouble comes to you because of last night's work, neither you nor Gurney shall lose a cent. Try to forget it, won't you, George? Shake hands with me, and say that you will."

Very few could withstand Bob Hubbard when he spoke as he did then, and Harnett's anger began to vanish immediately his moonlighting friend spoke.

"We'll say no more about it, Bob; and I'll believe you wouldn't have done such a thing to me if you had taken time to think it over," replied George, as he shook hands not only with Bob, but with the other two.

"Now, Gurney, come right up, and say that you bear no grudge against Jim. He knows that you were in the right when you insisted on having the horses cared for, and he would have known it last night if he hadn't got excited, as he always does when anything is up."

Jim came up with outstretched hand as Bob spoke, and in a few moments the party were friendly once more, although the determination which Ralph and George had formed, relative to not visiting the moonlighters in their haunts again, was still as strong as ever.

With the provisions they had on hand, and the fish that had been caught the day before, Pete served up such a breakfast as would have tempted an epicure, and it may be imagined with what zest these hungry boys attacked it.

Bob and his party intended to remain where they were during that day, at least, for it would be necessary to do many things to the shanty before it would be even a secure hiding-place for their goods, and although they urged that their visitors remain with them, George was still firm in his determination to return to the Kenniston farm as soon as he had finished breakfast.

It was not until after Bob had exhausted every other argument in vain that he said:

"I think it would be much better, George, if you should stay here to-day, and give the people a chance to cool off in regard to last night's proceedings. If you go through Sawyer this morning, they may make it disagreeable for you."

"That is one reason why I am determined to go at once. If any trouble is to come of your drive, I want it over as soon as possible, and the sooner I show myself in Sawyer, the more satisfied I shall feel."

"But the chances are that the matter will drop through if you keep out of sight for a day or two," persisted Bob, almost entreatingly.

"And I don't want it to drop through. If they propose to make any trouble, I prefer to meet them rather than wait around in the hope that it will be forgotten. I am obliged to earn my living, and from these people here, for the time being. Therefore, they will be doing me a very great favor if they find out exactly how far I am responsible for last night's work."

It was useless to attempt to persuade George to do other than that which he had decided upon, and Bob recognized that fact. He said nothing more against the departure of his guests, but did all in his power to aid them in getting ready for the journey.

The horses did not appear to be affected in the least by their hard drive on the previous night, and this, more than anything else, caused George to feel less hard toward his friends, the moonlighters.

It was nine o'clock in the morning before Ralph and George were ready to set out, and as they were starting, Bob called out:

"Remember, we shall stand whatever my drive may cost you, and this evening we will meet you at home."

There was a feeling of positive relief in Ralph's heart when they drove out into the road, the trees behind shutting out the moonlighters from view. It was as if he had been suffering from some disagreeable nightmare, and he would have been thankful it was ended if it was not for the awakening in the form of driving through Sawyer, liable to be arrested at any moment.

"George," he asked, at length, "do you really think that what was done last night will injure your business prospects?"

"I feel so certain of it that I shall begin to make preparations to leave here as soon as I finish what I have on hand. I certainly know that I would not employ a man who would deliberately assist in carrying a large quantity of glycerine through a town, and at the same time drive in the most reckless manner."

"But you can prove that you were not with the party, and that you knew nothing of what was being done."

"Yes, I can prove that, if they give me the opportunity, and I am now in the position of a man who longs most ardently to be arrested, but yet who does not dare to appear too eager about it."

"I can't say that I want to be arrested," said Ralph, dubiously, "for father and mother would think I had been doing something terrible; but I would be perfectly willing to stand it if it would do you any good."

"It is about the only thing that can do me any good," replied George, decidedly; and then he added, quickly: "But we won't talk any more about it. Let us enjoy this ride thoroughly, for we have just escaped from the moonlighters' den. I can't say, however, that our troubles are entirely over; for, by the looks of those black clouds, we shall stand a chance of getting a drenching."

It was as George had said. The sky, which had been cloudless when they started, was now being obscured by black, angry-looking clouds, which threatened at any moment to break and pour their burden of water upon the parched earth.

Had they been riding where no shelter could be found, both the boys would have been alarmed, for there was every indication of a heavy shower; but since there were houses along the road in which they could take shelter at almost any moment, they rode on, determined to get as near as possible to their destination before the storm burst.

George urged the horses along, hoping that they might reach the town of Sawyer before the rain came; but in this he was mistaken, for, before they had ridden five minutes from the time he first spoke, the great drops that acted as avant couriers to the large body of water, descended, and the boys had just time to drive under a rude shed before the storm was upon them.

A vivid flash of lightning, followed immediately by a deafening peal of thunder, was the prelude to as terrific a thunder-storm as the boys had ever seen, and, as the rain descended in what seemed to be sheets of water rather than drops, the lightning flashed almost incessantly, while the thunder roared until it seemed as if the very earth was shaken.

Even George had never passed a summer in this section of the country before, and he knew no more than did Ralph the destruction often caused by the electric current where so much inflammable material is stored.

Without a thought of the possible catastrophe that might occur, they remained under their apology for a shelter, through which the water poured in anything but tiny streams, looking out at the majestic spectacle, fearing only that the wind might throw the frail shed down upon them.

"Look there!" cried Ralph, as an unusually brilliant flash was seen. "It almost appeared as if the lightning ran entirely around that oil-tank. I wonder if those are ever struck?"

"It must make sad work if they are," replied George, thinking for the first time of such a possibility. "In that tank alone there must be fully thirty-five thousand barrels of oil, and the conflagration would be something terrible."

He had hardly ceased speaking, when there came a flash that almost blinded them as it descended directly on the top of a huge derrick, crackling and hissing as it came, and in what seemed to be the slightest possible fraction of time, the air was filled with fragments of the heavy timbers, while, despite the pouring rain, a sulphurous odor was perceptible.

The derrick had been struck, and its thousand fragments strewed the earth in every direction.

"How terrible!" cried Ralph, as he covered his face with is hands in affright, for never before had he witnessed the terrific force of the lightning's bolt.

George stood at the door of the shed, restless, regardless alike of the deluge of water that fell upon him, and of the neighing and stamping of the frightened horses; he was like one fascinated by the awful majesty of that which he saw everywhere around him.

His gaze was directed toward the largest oil tank in the valley, while it seemed as if some will stronger than his own impelled him to look at this enormous construction of iron, filled with its easily ignited contents; and as he thus stood, awed into silence, it seemed to him that the largest cloud was rent entirely asunder, while from its very center a torrent of fire was poured on to the tank, from which the flames appeared to leap to meet the shaft from heaven.

In an instant the entire body of oil was a seething mass of flames, while the very rain seemed to add to their fury. One of the largest tanks in the valley had been struck, and the destruction threatened every living thing that could not flee to the mountains from the river of fire that poured out over the shattered iron sides of the tank.

CHAPTER XII.

THE CONFLAGRATION

The grandeur of the scene upon which George and Ralph looked was indescribable, the slightest detail of which once seen could never be forgotten.

The lurid flames, surmounted by the thick, black smoke, towered upward as if to meet the lightning's flash, and then, as the wind and rain beat it down for a moment, the heavy clouds of smoke rolled down the valley like some funereal pall sent in advance of the death and destruction that was to come.

"What can we do?" cried Ralph, when the awe which the scene had brought with it gave place to fear for others, and a desire to avert suffering and destruction.

"We can do nothing," replied George, in a low tone. "We do not even know how to fight the burning oil, and are powerless to do anything, at least until others shall come to direct the work."