While these enterprises were engaging his attention, Ben divided his time between Millerstown and Petrolia, Kitty still remaining at the latter place. In a row which occurred at the Petrolia House, in which the participants were a couple of women and a man, one of the women accidentally (?) shot Ben, but with only slight injuries. As soon as he had recovered he met the man, Charley Moore by name, and a somewhat lively dispute followed. Moore had a friend with him who discharged his revolver at Ben, but failed to score a bull's eye, the ball striking a dry-goods box instead of our hero's heart. With no other weapons than his fists, Ben disposed of both men, knocking one down with his right hand and the other with his left. The fellow who discharged the shot was arrested and sent to jail, but got out again in a week or so.
The dull times had now begun to tell seriously upon the oil region. Oil dropped to forty cents, and with it money ceased to drop. There was very little life left in the neighborhood, and that may have accounted for the tax which was levied upon the keepers of all sporting houses. The mistress was called upon to contribute twelve dollars to the treasury of the town, while each of the girls was assessed seven dollars. Of course any such tax as this was really illegal, as the houses were not licensed; still, to avoid interference, the money was paid.
Ben, to whom this shot was particularly directed, was considerably incensed, and determined to expose the whole thing. He was already paying a license of three dollars a night for his Opera House, and he did not care to increase his donations to the town officials. An opportunity for speaking out his mind presented itself on the occasion of a performance given in the Opera House by Sanford's minstrels. After the show had ended, Hogan stepped upon the stage and said:
"I desire to detain you only a moment, ladies and gentlemen. As you are all well aware, I built this Opera House for the sake of furnishing the public with amusement. There was nobody else who had the capital or the energy to do this work. Now you all know that there are from forty to seventy sporting women in Petrolia. They have been here long enough for you to know their character, and there is no need of discussing the fact that they are here. You know, moreover, what my business is, and I have only to say if you think the women have injured the town, let them be driven out. But I don't intend to submit to this exorbitant license business any longer. I have spoken to Mr. Dimmick, the burgess, and he tells me it is not his fault--that the Councilmen are responsible. Now if the Council spent the money for public improvements, if it was used for sidewalks and pavements, and things of that sort, I would willingly pay double the amount they demand of me; but we have no sidewalks nor pavements, and the inevitable conclusion is that the money finds its way into official pockets. I don't propose to contribute any more for that purpose."