"Three—thousand—dollars!" echoed Ralph.
"That's all. You write to your father, tell him what we have found, and ask him to send the money right on," said Bob, in a matter-of-fact tone.
"And do you suppose he would send such an amount of money simply for the asking?"
And Ralph's doubts in regard to the moonlighter's sanity increased each moment.
"It don't make much difference whether he does or not," was the careless reply. "I can get everything we need to go to work with on the strength of that showing, and I tell you that we'll have that well flowing just as soon as possible. But you write to your father, ask him to come on and see what we have got, and, after he has talked with those who are in the business here, he won't hesitate about the money."
"Yes, I can do that," said Ralph, slowly, but doubting very much whether he could accomplish anything by it. "But it will take three or four days at least before we can hear from him."
"That don't make any difference, for it won't delay us. I'm going to start right out to buy the engine, and by the time we hear from him, we shall be at work."
By this time they were at the stable, and Bob began harnessing his horses, in proof of what he said.
"I wouldn't do that," expostulated Ralph. "It may not be as good as you think it is, and you may get into an awful lot of trouble about it."
"Look here, Gurney," said Bob, impressively. "There's oil there—plenty of it—and I know what I'm about. You just let me alone, and by the time Harnett is able to understand anything, I'll be ready to prove to him that both he and you are rich, all through your charitable idea of buying Simpson's wood-lot."