Mr. Damon had arrived a few days before the strengthening of the derrick. At first he had been his usual bright and voluble self, but as day followed day even his good spirits died away, and at length he put in words what the others had been thinking for some time past.
“Bless my oil cups, Tom, I’m the last man in the world to want to discourage you, but it begins to look to me as though there wasn’t a drop of oil on this whole farm—except what they burn in the lamps at night.”
“I must admit that it begins to look that way, as you say,” Tom replied. “But don’t forget that more than once oil has been struck at greater depths than we’ve penetrated so far. Why, we’re not down a thousand feet yet, and the famous ‘spouter’ well didn’t break until they’d gone down to nearly fourteen hundred. Besides, we’ve struck a softer stratum of earth now, and the old drill is beginning to bite through in fine style once more.”
“That new drill of yours has done wonders, and if you let it go I think it would reach China eventually, but even then it might not strike an oil deposit. Why, bless my good, muscular right arm, if you go down much farther, you’ll have to strengthen your derrick again. A thousand feet of iron pipe weighs something, let me tell you.”
“Well, if the derrick breaks, we’ll build a new one,” returned Tom, doggedly. “I’ve got a hunch that there’s oil under this farm, and I want pretty good proof that there isn’t before I give up looking for it. Besides, it isn’t only ourselves that we’ve got to think of. Can’t you imagine how disappointed Mr. Goby and his daughter would be if we had to admit failure?”
“Yes, and then there’s the Hankinshaw gang, too,” chimed in Ned. “They’d have the laugh on us good and plenty if we went to all this trouble and then didn’t get anything after all. We’d just be saving them the expense of doing the work themselves.”
“Very true. But you’ve got to look at this from a business viewpoint,” came from Mr. Damon. “Every ten feet you go deeper now will cost you many times more than the same distance did at first, and if the chances seem all against you, it’s better policy to take your losses and get out while you’ve got something left. That blessed hunch of yours, Tom, may prove to be a very expensive one before you’re through.”
“That’s very true, Mr. Damon. But remember that it hasn’t cost us nearly as much to drill this hole as it would if we had reached the same depth with the ordinary drilling equipment. I think we’d better add a little more bracing to the derrick and drill through another hundred feet or so. If we don’t strike oil here, I want to feel that we did our best, anyway. There may be oil within ten feet of the drill point right now.”
Tom’s confidence and eagerness were infectious, and while Mr. Damon still shook his head doubtfully and blessed everything he could think of, it was finally decided to “carry on” a little while longer. Ned, while still unconvinced, did not advance any further arguments against a continuation of the drilling, as he knew how bitterly disappointed Carol would be if they failed in the undertaking.
Day followed day at the scene of the drilling, and still there was the same heartbreaking lack of success. Deeper and deeper went the drill, faster now, but still with no result. Finally their supply of pipe ran out, and it was almost a week before they could get more—a week during which Tom paced restlessly about the confines of the farm, counting the minutes until they could resume operations. The time was not entirely wasted, however, as they added some heavy shoring to the derrick, together with some new crossbeams to support those that were bending and splitting under the tremendous strain.