CONTENTS.
| CHAPTER | PAGE | |
|---|---|---|
| I.— | A Prince and Princess Go in Search of Adventures | [1] |
| II.— | A Present from a Fairy GodMother | [8] |
| III.— | Brace Barlow the “Moonlighter” | [17] |
| IV.— | A Torpedo Man’s Peril | [25] |
| V.— | Arthur and His Cousins | [33] |
| VI.— | A Gallant Rescue and Its Reward | [40] |
| VII.— | Uncle Phin’s Plan | [49] |
| VIII.— | Awakened at Midnight | [58] |
| IX.— | A Hurried Flight | [66] |
| X.— | On Board the Ark | [74] |
| XI.— | Uncle Phin’s Danger | [82] |
| XII.— | A Torrent of Flame | [90] |
| XIII.— | How the Ark was Saved | [98] |
| XIV.— | A Camp of Tramps | [107] |
| XV.— | Arthur’s Fight to Save Rusty | [115] |
| XVI.— | The Meaning of Some Queer Signs | [123] |
| XVII.— | Pleasant Driftings | [130] |
| XVIII.— | The Ark is Stolen | [139] |
| XIX.— | Penniless Wanderers in a Strange City | [148] |
| XX.— | A Railroad Experience | [154] |
| XXI.— | Carried Off in a Freight Car | [164] |
| XXII.— | Saving the Keystone Express | [172] |
| XXIII.— | Crossing the Alleghanies | [182] |
| XXIV.— | A Brave Struggle with Poverty | [189] |
| XXV.— | Finding a Home | [199] |
| XXVI.— | Colonel Dale of Dalecourt | [207] |
| XXVII.— | A “Genuine Chump” | [216] |
| XXVIII.— | A Few Facts Concerning Petroleum | [224] |
| XXIX.— | Locating an Oil Well | [234] |
| XXX.— | The Dale-Dustin Mystery | [243] |
| XXXI.— | A Bitter Disappointment | [250] |
| XXXII.— | Shooting a “Duster” | [259] |
| XXXIII.— | Saved by the Sign of the Tramp | [266] |
| XXXIV.— | An Oil Scout Outwitted | [274] |
| XXXV.— | Developing an Oil Region | [283] |
| XXXVI.— | Arthur Remembers His Friends | [290] |
ILLUSTRATIONS.
| PAGE | |
|---|---|
| ONE OF THE GREAT OIL TANKS HAD BEEN STRUCK BY LIGHTNING, AND NOW A RAGING, ROARING MASS OF FLAME SHOT UP | [Frontispiece] |
| PRINCE DUSTY AND CYNTHIA SET OUT ON THEIR ADVENTURES | [4] |
| PRINCE DUSTY AND HIS FAIRY GODMOTHER | [8] |
| A HURRIED FLIGHT BY MOONLIGHT | [70] |
| STANDING STEADILY IN THE MIDDLE OF THE TRACK HE SWUNG HIS DANGER SIGNAL TO AND FRO | [180] |
| THE FAIRY GODMOTHER FINDS PRINCE DUSTY | [198] |
| WITH A MIGHTY ROAR LIKE THAT OF THUNDER, A DENSE VOLUME OF GAS BURST FORTH | [264] |
| “YES, THAT’S SANDY’S MARK,” SAID ONE OF THEM, “THERE’S NO GOING BACK ON THAT” | [272] |
PRINCE DUSTY
A STORY OF THE OIL REGIONS.
CHAPTER I.
A PRINCE AND PRINCESS GO IN SEARCH OF ADVENTURES.
Twelve-year-old Arthur Dale Dustin did not look the least bit like a Prince, sitting perched on the topmost rail of the zig-zag fence that bright September afternoon. As he dangled his bare brown legs idly, he wistfully watched his cousins at the play in which they would not allow him to join. He loved to play as dearly as any other boy; but somehow or other he was always left out of their games by the boisterous crew of little Dustins whom he called cousins. He tried his best to like what they liked, and to be one with them; but something always seemed to happen to prevent.
Once when they all went to see the well that his uncle, John Dustin, was drilling, deep down into the ground, with the hope of striking petroleum, they found the men away, and, for a few minutes, had the place to themselves. Thereupon Cousin Dick, who was two years older than Arthur, climbed up the derrick, and, watching his chance, sprang on the end of the great walking beam, that was working slowly up and down with ponderous strokes. Here he rode on the back of his mighty wooden steed for a few seconds, while the other children shouted and clapped their hands with admiration.
Then Dick came down and dared Arthur to perform the same feat; but the boy held back. He was not afraid, not a bit of it; and even if he had been he would gladly have done anything Dick dared do, merely to win his good-will and that of the others. But his Uncle John had forbidden them even to go near the derrick or the engine unless he was there to look after them. The others seemed to have forgotten this; but Arthur remembered it, and so refused to ride on the walking beam because it would be an act of disobedience. Then Cousin Dick sneered at him, and called him a “’Fraid-cat,” and all the others, except tender-hearted, freckle-faced little Cynthia, took up the cry and shouted, “’Fraid-cat! ’Fraid-cat!” as they crowded around him and pushed him into the derrick.