uscular,
with closely-cropped gray hair and quizzical gray eyes slightly
puckered at the corners from much staring in the hot sun. His face
and hands were very brown, and he looked like a man who lead an
outdoor life and liked it.

Bob took to him at once, and the feeling seemed to be mutual, for Mr.
Gordon kept a friendly hand on the boy's shoulder while he continued
to scan him smilingly.

"Began to look as though we were never going to get together, didn't
it?" Mr. Gordon said. "Last week there was a rumor that I might have
to go to China for the firm, and I thought if that happened Betty
would be in despair. However, that prospect is not immediate. Well,
young folks, what do you think of Flame City, off-hand?"

Betty stared. From the station she could see half a dozen one-story
shacks and, beyond, the outline of oil well derricks. A straggling,
muddy road wound away from the buildings. Trolley cars, stores and
shops, brick buildings to serve as libraries and schools--there
seemed to be none.

"Is this all of it?" she ventured.

"You see before you," declared Mr. Gordon gravely, "the rapidly
growing town of Flame City. Two months ago there wasn't even a
station. We think we've done rather well, though I suppose to Eastern
eyes the signposts of a flourishing town are conspicuous by their
absence."

"But where do people live?" demanded Betty, puzzled. "If they come
here to work or to buy land, isn't there a hotel to live in? Where do
you live, Uncle Dick?"

"Mostly in my tin boat," was the answer. "Many's the night I've
slept in the car. But of course I have a bunk out at the field.
Accommodations are extremely limited, Betty, I will admit. The few
houses that take in travelers are over-crowded and dirty. If some one
had enterprise enough to start a good hotel he'd make a fortune. But
like all oil towns, the fever is to sink one's money in wells."

Betty's eyes turned to the horizon where the steel towers reared
against the sky.

"Can we go to see the oil fields now?" she asked. "We're not a bit
tired, are we, Bob?"

Mr. Gordon surveyed his niece banteringly.

"What is your idea of an oil field?" he teased. "A bit of pasture
neatly fenced in, say two or three acres in area? Did you know that
our company at present holds leases for over four thousand acres? The
nearest well is ten miles from this station. No, child, I don't think
we'll run out and look around before supper. I want to take you and
Bob to