Mohave County miner and our mineral wealth., 1921-02-18
SPEAKS OF THE BOOM
 AT ELD0RAD0

The Kansas City Star, probably the most conservative paper in the United States, prints the following on the new Fl Dorado oil fields:
 FL DORADO, ARK, Jan. 29.-Ten thousand persons were jammed into a space that four thousand formerly had occupied in this unostentatious little city in the piney lands of Southern Arkansas within forty-eight hours af- ter a driller's bit had penetrated the last hard substance above caverns of gas that converted a modest oil well into mighty gusher.
 They came by all manners of con- veyance. Special trains bore operat- ors and their field staffs from the oil fields of Louisiana. They came in congested trainloads out of Oklahoma, Kentucky and Tennessee through the gates of Little Rock. They drove by motor over muddy highways from scattered regions of Southern Arkan- sas and the wildcat timberlands of Northeastern Texas. Two came by airplane from Oklahoma and values of leases increased while they secuted over derrick tops in a long hours search for landing place.
 Rich and poor alike they elbowed through the brick-floored streets, packed to the last square foot the small Hobbies of the hotels, overfilled inadequate dining rooms, and at night some hundreds of them found not where to lay their heads. A 10 o'clock sun warmed the bodies and made peaceful sleep of many who passed through the chilly January nights and lay down at dawn upon the grassy slopes against brick-walled windbreaks.
 Banks OverflOwed, Too.
 The money they got for leases roll ed into the three banks of this town in sums ranging from $2,OO0 to $300,000, until deposits mounted into millions and bankers and their clerks were worked into frazzle. In four days the deposits of one bank had increased 1 million dollars. A cleaner and presser who had gambled his small savings in a lease sold it for $40,000 A Chinaman with laundry who had been good sport in the lease gamb- ling days sold 40-acre lease for $32,- 900. A poor farmer with falling down barns was paid $40,000 for a small tract.
 Too Busy to Fight.
 Until we'll after midnight the hotel lobby was a babel of voices. You could cut the fog of tobacco smoke with your knife. One edged his way through by inches, falling back at in tervals before the retreating bulk of larger form. This was the oil capitol of the West, and in it the chap with little more than return ticket in his pocket poked his elbows into the ribs of millionaires. Attractively gowned women, armed with maps and plats and notebooks and pencils, squeezed into the tightest places of the swaying assemblage and offered leases for sale.
 All the Farmers Were in Town
 All roads were muddy but consid- ably travelled. Along one came an Ar kansawyer on a mule. The mule was putting his darndest into rough gal Top. "Got lease to sell ?" called pedestrian from the pine forest at the roadside. Don't own a foot O land," replied the native, "but Pm goin' to town to see what's goin' on."
 A tourist returning from the coun- tryside said he found all the farmers away from home, and their wives said they were in town. Nearly every farmer within fifteen miles of Eldo- rado was here. Local lawyers and lease men knew a majority of them and acted as agents for them