At sight of his little friend, Brace reined in his horses and stopped for a moment’s chat with him.
In spite of the young man’s warning that he had a load of the “stuff” under the seat, Arthur ran forward and clambered up into the wagon beside him.
“Oh, I am so glad to see you, ‘dear giant’!” he began impulsively, “because——” Here he paused.
He had been about to pour into this friend’s ear all his troubles, and make a complaint against his Aunt Nancy; but it suddenly occurred to him that by so doing he would be only acting the part of a tale-bearer, which his father had taught him most heartily to despise. Telling things to Uncle Phin was different. He was quite certain that Brace could not help him in his present trouble, and so, when the latter asked with a smile, “Because what, little one?” he answered:
“Because I love you, and I am always glad to see the people I love. Are you going to shoot a well? Can’t I go with you? Aunt Nancy says I am to stay out of her sight until sunset, and the boys have gone fishing, and Cynthia’s doing her patchwork, and I haven’t a single thing to do. Please let me go.”
“Well, I don’t know,” replied Brace Barlow, reflectively. “I don’t suppose there is really any danger; still——”
“Danger!” exclaimed Prince Dusty, scornfully. “Do you suppose I am any more afraid of danger than you are, even if you are a great, big man and I am only a little boy? Well, I’m not. Your old glycerine can’t be any worse than lightning, and I’m not a bit afraid of that. Besides, if I am always going to live in this oil region, I ought to learn all about its dangers, so that I’ll know enough to keep away from them. Perhaps when I have grown to be a giant, like you, I will want to be a well-shooter too, and how can I if I haven’t learned how?”
This array of argument was too much for Brace to answer, and so, saying, “Well, I suppose I’ll have to take you with me just this once,” he chirruped to his horses, and, driving much more slowly and carefully than usual, turned into the road that led to the well he was engaged to shoot.
They reached the place without incident, and Arthur helped carry into the derrick the bundle of bright tin tubes that had been lashed to a couple of curved iron supports at one side of the wagon. He also helped place in position the reel on which was wound two thousand feet of stout cord, by means of which the torpedo was to be let down into the well. This line was run through a pulley that hung directly above the well, and its end terminating in an iron hook, dangled close to the mouth of the deep, dark hole.
When these preparations were made, Brace Barlow began to fit and fasten together several lengths of small tin pipe until they formed a continuous tube about fifty feet long. This is called the “anchor,” and was to be attached to the lower end of the shell, or large torpedo tube, so that when the whole was lowered into the well, it would support the torpedo at a height of fifty feet above the bottom.