The Skyland post. [volume] (West Jefferson, N.C.) 193?-1988, 1943-01-14
8G DARK LIGHTNING ,zIEIf
MNIA By HELEN TOPPING MILLER - 71 lla9R
WIN
WIN U. FFArURtS

of my usiness?"
1T amt, but I don't mind tell
ing for l reckon you'll find out
anyhow. I leased to GriceMor-
gan-and if you can get any wa
ter out of that outfit, you're a
good one"
well, I'll get tiff I have to
run a pipe plumb to the Gulf of
Mexico after it,"
Harvey stamped away. He
trod viciously on the started and
raced the engine till it roared.
what do you know" he de-
manded wrathfully. THAT dir
ty little heel! He comes to my
house Sundays and eats my
chicken and drinks my liquor,
and then he sells me out-like
this. Son, if it wasn't for Grace,
I'd sure drife into town and give
Mr.. Oliver Kimball a good poke
in the jaw"
I'm afraid you won't get any
concessions out of that Grice-
Morgan outfit" Gary was dubi-
Gus.
"Yeah; I've heard about them
"You might figure on rum
ming a pipe line and tapping the
city supply-that is, if they'd let
you"
"Tll go talk to 'em. They've
got water to sell-they can sell
it to me-"
do you want me to see about
the concrete job? We can't put
a derrick up without concrete
corners and we have to concrete
the surface casing in"
"You said you knew a good
outfit"
Powers is the best All new
equipment, and they work fast
and save you money"
well, you get Addie to take
you over to see them"
''Mr. Mason, why not wait a
little? Grice-Morgan may de-
eide to put a test we'll on Harp
er's land. If they should do that
and the we'll came in, you'd
know definitely that it was worth
while going ahead with this
proposition. And if they get a
dry hole, you will have saved
yourself a lot of trouble and mon
ey."
IF they did get a dry hole"
argued Harvey stubbornly, "that
wouldn't prove that there wasn't
oil on my place. Maybe I've got
oil and there isn't any on Harp
er's land. That would be swell
Joke on the old buzzard, wouldn't
it?"
Already, in his racing imagina-
ton, Harvey was completely de-
tached from the present
Adelaide was too busy to drive
Gary over into the oil field.
Its the dance at the country
club, Gary-the spring dance.
/ It's supposed to be Friday night
and I'm on the decorating COM
mittee."
Gary grinned. "NoW we re-
turn to the original question,
which is-how am I going to get
to east Texas? l could 60 on the
bus but it would take all day to
walk around the field after I got
there. I'd lose a lot of time"
Get Mother to drive you over.
1t will do her good to get out.
And don't forget, you're invited
to the dance, Gary"
Gary said, trifle stiffly, "Sor-
ry-1'm afraid I'll be busy"
Thinking that his best suit would
look shabby at a dance, no mat
ter what cleaner could do for
lt-and, of course, Adelaide
would be going with some other
fellow-Bob Ferguson, probably.
When the big red concrete ma
chine came roaring up the drive,
Harvey had not been able as yet
to complete arrangements about
water.
Adelaide sat, excitedly, on an
overturned chicken coop, watch
ing the forms being put together
and the cement poured in.
The rigging crew arrived, and
Gary watched them piling off
the truck, and gave a shout. Bill
Grant! You old son-of-a-gun!"
A tall, bronzed, muscular
young fellow took a broad jump
off the truck and came running.
"Hi-Gary! What the heck are
you doing here?" They beat each
other on the back and pumped
hands, while Adelaide watched.
Putting down this we'll. AIDE
laide, this is Bill Grant, the rot
tenest football player that ever
fumbled a ball. Bill was in
school with me. What are you
doing with this bunch, Bill?"
"Still sticking 'em up. Worked
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