hat means
they've the one idea of getting all the oil out they can while they
hold the land. So they tend to exhaust the sands early, and violate
the principles of conservation."

They were following the road through the oil fields now, and
presently Mr. Gordon announced that they were on his company's
holdings. At the same time they saw a column of dense black smoke
towering toward the sky.

"There's the fire!" cried Betty. "Do hurry, Uncle Dick!"

Obediently the little car let out a notch, and they drew up beside a
group of men, still some distance from the fire.

"Chandler's come," said one of these respectfully to Mr. Gordon. "The
five-ton truck brought up a load of sand, and they're only waiting
for you to give the word."

The speaker was introduced to Betty and Bob as Dave Thorne, a well
foreman, and at a word from Mr. Gordon he jumped on the running board
of the car and they proceeded another mile. This brought them to the
load of sand dumped on one side of the road and the powerful
high-pressure hose that had been brought up on the train that
morning. The heat from the burning well was intense, though they were
still some distance from the actual fire.

"Now, Betty, watch and you'll see a fire put out," commanded her
uncle, getting out of the car and going forward, first cautioning
both young people to stay where they were and not get in any one's
way.

A half dozen men lifted the heavy hose, turned the nozzle toward the
column of smoke, and a shower of fine sand curved high in the air.
For perhaps five minutes nothing could be noticed; then, almost
imperceptibly, the smoke began to die down. Lower, lower, and lower
it fell, and at last died away. The men continued to pump in sand for
an extra ten minutes as a matter of precaution, then stopped. The
fire was out.

"That fire wasn't no accident, Boss," proclaimed Dave Thorne, wiping
his perspiring face with a red handkerchief. "She was set. And,
believe me, where there's one, there'll be others. The north section
keeps me awake nights. If a fire started there where that close
drilling's going on, it couldn't help but spread. You can fight fire
in a single well, but let half a dozen of 'em flare up and there'll
be more than oil lost."

"What a croaker you are, Dave," said Mr. Gordon lightly. "Don't lose
sleep about any section. A night's rest is far too valuable to be
squandered. These young folks want to see the sights, and I'll take
them around for