At length came the moment for shooting off the well. Some of the woodwork surrounding the derrick had been removed, and all the electric connections were pronounced in good working order. Then the boys and the others who had assembled were ordered back to a safe distance. It was a thrilling moment, and no one felt it more than the four Rovers. They waited a few minutes, and then came a dull rumble, shaking the ground as if by an earthquake. Then they saw something shoot skyward, and then came a sudden rain of black oil, flying and spattering in all directions. "They've struck it! They've struck it!" yelled Andy excitedly. "They've struck oil!" "Gee, but I'll bet that makes them feel good," announced Fred. "That well must have cost a lot of money." "Forty thousand dollars, the foreman said," came from Jack. "Come on, let us get back unless we want our clothing ruined." For the wind was shifting and sending a fine spray of oil in their direction. It was hard work to control the flow of oil, and the men around the new well had to work like Trojans. The black mass was flowing off in a depression of the ground which had been dammed around to receive it. "It certainly is a great proceeding," was Fred's comment, when they finally turned away and started on their return to Columbina. "I don't wonder that those men get interested. It certainly is the greatest gamble of the age. One minute you have nothing, and the next, if you are lucky, the oil is pouring thousands of dollars into your pocket every week." "It's the land of luck, all right enough," answered Fred. "And you mustn't forget one thing," added Jack. "There are just as many failures as there are successes. There have been millions and millions of dollars sunk in Texas, Oklahoma and Kansas, and some promoters haven't got even a smell of oil for their money." When the lads returned to the hotel they found that several letters had come in for them. One was from Jack's sister, and this he read with interest, and then passed it around to his cousins to peruse. In her letter Martha wrote that she had heard from Ruth Stevenson's mother, who stated that Ruth's eyes were not in as good shape as the local doctor had hoped for and he had advised that a specialist be consulted. "Gee, that's the worst yet!" said Jack, and his face showed his concern. "Poor Ruth! I do hope she comes out of it all right, and that very soon."