"They're generally _tried_, anyhow. The cute fellow who first hit upon the idea meant to keep it dark, but the oilers, you'll find, have got their teeth skinned, and what they can't find out isn't worth finding out! Lord! I torpedoed my wells at midnight, and it wasn't a week before the Fluke was at it, bustin' and bustin' all their dry auger-holes!" "The _what_!" Joseph exclaimed. "Fluke. Queer name, isn't it? But that's nothing: we have the Crinoline, the Pipsissaway, the Mud-Lark, and the Sunburst, between us and Tideoute." "What is the name of your company, if I may ask?" "About as queer as any of 'em,—the Chowder." Joseph started, in spite of himself. "It seems to me I have heard of that company," he managed to say. "O no doubt," replied the stranger. "'T isn't often quoted in the papers, but it's _known_. I'm rather proud of it, for I got it up. I was boring—boss, though—at three dollars a day, two years ago, and now I have my forty thousand a year, 'free of income tax,' as the Insurance Companies say. But then, where one is lucky like the Chowder, a hundred busts." Joseph rapidly collected himself while the man was speaking. "I should very much like to see your wells," he said. "Will you be there a day or two from now? My name is Asten,—not that you have ever heard of it before." "Shall be glad to hear it again, though, and to see you," said the man. "My name is Blenkinsop." Again it was all that Joseph could do to restrain his astonishment. "I suppose you are the President of the Chowder?" he ventured to say. "Yes," Mr. Blenkinsop answered, "since it's a company. It was all mine at the start, but I wanted capital, and I had to work 'em." "What other important companies are there near you?" "None of any account, except the Fluke and the Depravity. _They_ flow tolerable now, after torpedoing. To be sure, there are kites and catches with all sorts o' names,—the Penny-royal, the Ruby, the Wallholler (whatever _that_ is), and the Amaranth,—ha, ha!" "I think I have heard of the Amaranth," Joseph mildly remarked. "Lord! are you _bit_ already?" Mr. Blenkinsop exclaimed, fixing his small, sharp eyes on Joseph's face. "I—I really don't know what you mean." "No offence: I thought it likely, that's all. The Amaranth is Kanuck's last dodge. He keeps mighty close, but if he don't feather his nest in a hurry, at somebody's expense, _I_ ain't no judge o' men!" Joseph did not dare to mention the Amaranth again. He parted with Mr. Blenkinsop at Tarr Farm, and went on to Oil City, where he spent a day in unprofitable wanderings, and then set out up the river, first to seek the Chowder wells, and afterwards to ascertain whether there was any perennial beauty in the Amaranth.