Toby was greatly exercised lest that rope give way. If such a thing happened he knew it would be all up with himself and Jack, for they would have to defend themselves against the hound’s teeth, and must inevitably be made prisoners by some of the men.
What would happen then was an unpleasant thought for Toby to entertain. Why, it might be they would be kept there until Maurice had been to see Priscilla, and coaxed her to give him an option on the property; which would really be too bad. So Toby hoped, and watched, and waited, to see the climax, his attention divided between the hound dog and the oil derrick, where the cluster of men moved to and fro.
The minutes were “shod with lead,” according 165 to Toby’s notion, and he ought to know what that meant, after his recent experience along the line of anxiety; if something did not happen pretty soon he feared he would be worked up to such a pitch that he must give a yell, or burst. And then again, unless the great event came about inside of fifteen or twenty minutes surely Jack would be unable to get the kind of picture on which his heart was set.
Then Toby fell rigid, and stared again through his peephole. The men were hurrying away from the vicinity of the derrick now! Plainly the stage was set for the closing scene of the strange little woods drama, and the time had arrived to make use of the electric battery in order to fire the dynamite cartridge lowered into the hole from which the boring tool had been lifted.
Toby held his breath from very awe, and pressed his face still further into the leafy screen. No danger of discovery now, since those men were one and all watching the derrick, as though it were a magnet that held their attention as the North Pole draws the needle of the mariner’s compass.
Suddenly there was a quiver to the earth, and a dull deep-seated roar. Then an unseen giant arose in his might, and tossed the derrick upwards as though it were composed of mere straws. With the flying timbers came what seemed to be a stream of dirty water, flying far up in the air, as though a fireman’s hose had been turned on! 166 That must be the dark-looking crude oil, mingled with water, Toby conjectured, as he continued to gape and wonder. Then after all the suspicions of Maurice Dangerfield had proven true, and the Pontico Hills region did harbor rich deposits of valuable oil!
He hoped Jack had been equal to the emergency, and pressed the rubber bulb of his camera just at the instant when remnants of the dislocated derrick, and that rush of precious mineral oil stood out against the eastern heavens so wonderfully clear!
167CHAPTER XX
OUT OF THE WOODS–CONCLUSION
“Now, let’s get away from here while the going is good,” said Jack in the ear of his companion, after he had taken yet another view of the scene, with the excited men running forward toward the sprouting oil well, which possibly they might later on seek to plug up, if such a thing were possible.