"You let me alone!" roared Werner. And then he suddenly caught up one of the guns and made a move as though to aim it at the Rovers. But the keeper of the shooting gallery was too quick for him, and wrested the weapon from the big youth's grasp. And then Gabe Werner did catch it. Not only did Randy and Fred pounce upon him, but also Jack and Andy, and as a consequence, bruised and bleeding, the big bully staggered from the shooting gallery and set off down the muddy street at the best speed he could command. "There! I guess we've settled him for a while," panted Randy, when the encounter was over. "Hello! where are Nappy and Slugger?" "They slid out while we were taking care of Gabe," answered Andy. "I guess they thought things were getting too warm." And in that surmise the fun-loving Rover was correct. Dismayed by the beating Werner was receiving, Nappy and Slugger had lost no time in departing for parts unknown. It was a long time before the Rovers saw them again. A few days later came word from the Spell claim that filled the Rovers with astonishment mingled somewhat with dismay. Oil had been reported, and every one connected with the Davenport outfit was of the opinion that the well when shot off would open up big. "Gee! suppose they do strike it rich?" cried Fred. "I don't think they will--not after what the experts said," answered Jack. "But even Mr. Fitch said they sometimes made mistakes," put in Randy. A few days later the well on the Spell claim was shot off, and this was followed by a flow of oil amounting to forty or fifty barrels a day. Then it was announced that the Davenport crowd was going to sink the well several hundred feet deeper and they were also going to put down another well farther up the brook. "I reckon that flow of oil has got 'em a-going," remarked Nick Ogilvie, and there was just a trace of envy in his tones. "Well, that's the luck of it. You can't tell anything about it," and he shook his head wonderingly as he went about his duties. So far, there had been no indications of oil at the first well which the Rovers were boring. But Mr. Fitch had told Jack's father not to expect too much until a depth of at least twenty-five hundred feet was reached. It made the boys feel a little blue to think that the Davenport crowd had been the first to strike oil. "Won't Nappy and Slugger crow over this--especially as their folks have an interest in the well?" remarked Jack. But the next day something happened which made Jack forget all his troubles for the time being. A telegram came in from his sister Martha, reading as follows: "Ruth's eyes operated on yesterday. Very successful. Expert says she will see perfectly." "Isn't this grand!" cried Jack, his whole face beaming with pleasure. "I declare, this is the best news yet!" "I don't blame you for being pleased, Jack," answered Randy. "I'll wager the Stevensons feel relieved."