“Seems to be,” agreed Tom, watching like a hawk.
Gradually the vertical stream, thin at first, became thicker and heavier, and the other stream grew thinner, until finally the entire shaft of oil was roaring and rushing through the open valve.
Tom and Ned shouted and cheered, while Mr. Damon blessed everything he could think of.
“Bless my dividends!” he cried. “Tom, my boy, you’re a wonder-worker, a magician!”
“I knew you’d do it, old boy!” exclaimed Ned, as he clapped his chum on the shoulder.
“It does look as though we’d won out,” admitted Tom, less exuberant but no less excited than his friends. “But now let’s see if the valve will hold when we close it. The pressure is going to be something fierce.”
The drillers were hardly less elated, and shouted and pounded each other unmercifully. Then they fell to work again, and soon everything was ready for closing the valve.
Tom had made another long handle to connect with the wheel of the valve, but he was too impatient to wait for this to be used. Drawing a long breath, he dashed through the spray of oil close to the well and started turning the hand wheel that operated the gate valve.
From a circular column, the shaft of oil assumed a crescent shape, growing narrower as the gate closed. Thinner and thinner grew the stream, until at length the valve was entirely closed. Then there came a tense moment of waiting. With the tremendous pressure of the imprisoned oil backing up against it, would the valve mechanism stand the strain? Would the framework supporting the valve hold?