"Indeed I will," was the hearty reply; "and if you will buy all your charges in the same manner, I shall have very much less work to do." "I've stopped all that work now," said Bob, solemnly, "and so far as I am concerned, you won't have another night's drive for moonlighters." Of course, after Mr. Newcombe's introduction, Bob had no difficulty in gaining the desired permission, and he joined those who were waiting for him outside, happy in the thought that, as he expressed it, "'The Harnett' would have a chance next day to show what she could do." CHAPTER XXX. LEGAL MOONLIGHTERS. When the boys arrived at the Simpson farm-house, after the close of the examination, there was very little they could do save talk over that which was to be done on the morrow, when the value of "The Harnett" was to be decided. A portion of the tubing to be used in case there was any flow of oil, was already on the ground, and the remainder would be hauled by noon of the next day at the latest. There were no cartridges to prepare, for the Torpedo Company's workmen would attend to all that, delivering both the tin cases and the glycerine ready for use. Everything was done that could be, and in a few hours more the casing of rock, which might or might not cover a large deposit of oil, would be blown out. As sanguine as Bob had been from the first that a large yield of oil would be found, he was exceedingly nervous now that the time for the question to be settled was near at hand. Not but that he was still as positive as ever that they should strike oil, but he began to fear that it might not be found in such quantity as he had imagined. He would talk for a few moments with the boys, then find some pretext for going to the well, over which a guard had been set to prevent any evil-disposed parties from tampering with it, and once there he was quite as eager to get back to his partners as he had been to leave them. In fact, he was in the highest degree nervous, and had not the others been afflicted in a similar way, they would have noticed his condition. Mr. Simpson was in such a disturbed mental condition that he went about his work in a dazed sort of way, until his wife insisted on his sitting on the wood-pile, where if he did no good he could at least do no harm, while she did the chores for him. On hearing Bob say, for at least the tenth time since he returned from town, that everything was all right at the well, the old man did "pull himself together" sufficiently to do the milking, and then no sooner had he performed that task than he forgot what he had done, and tried to do the whole work over again, remembering his previous accomplishment only when one of the cows kicked the empty pail over, and very nearly served him in the same way.