The night before, his tour of duty, or “tower,” as the oil men say, began at midnight, when he took charge of the drilling, with one assistant. They found that the tools had entered the third sand, in which it had been expected to strike oil, and were rapidly cutting their way through it. The layer of sandstone at this point was unusually thick, and it was not until nearly daylight that the drill penetrated beyond it.
With each drop of the tools, the anxious watchers at the surface expected a rush of oil; and each time the sand-pump was let down, its return was eagerly awaited, and its contents were carefully examined. There were, to be sure, traces of oil; but that was all.
All night long, Colonel Dale sat in the derrick, hardly speaking or moving, except when he stepped forward to study the contents of the sand-pump. It was a night of nights to him. His fortunes, and those of the dear ones dependent upon him, were to be decided by the result of those few hours’ labor.
A derrick lamp cast an uncertain light over the scene, and threw long wavering shadows across the floor. Brace Barlow worked the temper screw, and turned the drill after each stroke, so as to insure its cutting a perfectly round hole. His assistant labored at the little, glowing forge in one corner. Here he heated the extra drills, and, on the anvil beside him, beat their blunted points into sharp, cutting edges with a heavy hammer.
There was a steady clangor of noise within the boarded structure; while outside the wind howled dismally. Conversation would have been difficult; and, under the circumstances, there was nothing that any of the three men cared to say. Colonel Dale’s face grew whiter and whiter, as the slow hours passed, and the monotonous working of the tools produced no result. His eyes were fixed upon the great drill rope, as it moved steadily up and down, but he did not see it. He saw his dearly loved grandson, and his niece, thrown on the charity of the world. He saw Dalecourt, his once beautiful home, and the home of his fathers, passing from him, and occupied by strangers. He saw himself ruined and helpless, pointed at by men as an old fool, who had persisted in squandering his money on a reckless adventure that everybody told him would only result in failure.