And in quenching a fire,
Once sought to rise higher,
Using ile, instead of cold water,’”
laughed Miss Hatty. “However, I will consent to act as the ‘chump’ of this party for the sake of the common good, and I decide that the well shall be sunk on this very spot.” Here the young lady thrust a bit of stick into the ground where she was standing. It was about a hundred feet from the little gas jet, on the side nearest the house, and Miss Hatty afterwards acknowledged that she selected it because it was visible from her window, and she wanted to be able to see the derrick when it was built.
The spot where that bit of stick stood in the ground instantly acquired a new interest. It almost seemed as though they could see the tall derrick that was to rise there, and hear the steady thud of the drill as it cut its way down through earth and rock to the oil-bed. The very air seemed to be filled with the odor of petroleum; but perhaps it was only a whiff of the gas driven towards them by a puff of wind. At any rate, they felt that a beginning had been made now that the site of the well was decided upon, and were more than ever anxious to have the work go speedily forward.
Soon afterwards Colonel Dale visited the old oil region, some twenty miles away, in which Mr. John Dustin lived, to purchase the necessary supplies for his well, and to engage experienced men to come and drill it. It was while he was thus absent that Deacon Thackby persuaded the neighborhood that the Dales were only there because Miss Hatty was an “artiss.”
The neighborhood was indeed astonished when it discovered one day that several loads of lumber had been hauled from the railway station to the Dustin farm, and that a “rig-builder” was at work with his men erecting a derrick in the back wood-lot.
“What in the name of common-sense!” ejaculated Deacon Thackby, when he first heard of what was going on.
“Didn’t I tell ye I thought they was perspecting round fer ile?” piped brother Moss’ thin voice.
“But thar ain’t no ile within twenty mile of here,” cried Deacon Thackby. “The man must be a born natural to come wild-catting down here, and I’m jest a going to tell him so.”