This was a species of maternal niceness Phil had never run up against, consequently he did not feel sympathetic toward it.
“They tell me oil-wells are a jolly good thing to get into. That fellow Rockefeller made a lot out of them, didn’t he? You don’t know of any likely places around here, Phil?”
“No! I don’t think this is much of an oil country, Mr. Hannington. What we hear about oil here is more or less bunk. Better leave it alone!”
“You know,––I did meet a fellow on the train coming across. He had a jolly good thing. He was a water-diviner;––could tell you where the water was for a well just by walking over the land with a twig in his hand and doing a kind of prayer. Seemed to listen for the water, the same way as a robin does on the lawn when after worms.”
Phil laughed. “Yes!––I have met a few of that water-divining species, and some of them were pretty good at it, too. They seemed to strike it right fairly often.”
“Aw, yes, Phil!” continued DeRue Hannington, wiping his mouth with his napkin and leaning back in his chair, “but this fellow did have a good scheme. He said, you know, if a man could divine water, there was nothing to prevent him from divining oil too. So he was going to the oil-well district in California to test himself out with his idea, then he was coming back to Canada to start up oil-wells all over the bally country.”
“He’s going to let me in on it too. That’s what I call one of my futures. Just a speculation, old chap! I gave him two hundred and fifty dollars on his note. He required it to pay his way to the Oil Wells. Don’t you think it might be a real good thing, Phil?”
“It might!––but I don’t think I would tell many people about it,” said Phil quietly.
“Why?––Oh, yes, I see! I oughtn’t to give the chap away before he elaborates his plans. Might spoil them. Silly I didn’t think of that!”