gently rolling land on either side of them, dotted with a scrubby growth of trees. Not a house was in sight, and they had passed only one team, a pair of mules harnessed to a wagon filled with lengths of iron pipe.
"You'll know all about oil before you're through," said Mr. Gordon suddenly. Then he laughed.
"It's in the very air," he explained. "We talk oil, think oil, and sometimes I think, we eat oil. Leastways I know I've tasted it in the air on more than one occasion."
Betty had been silently turning something over in her mind.
"Isn't there danger from fire?" she asked presently.
"There certainly is," affirmed her uncle. "We've had one bad fire this season, and I don't suppose the subject is ever out of our minds very long at a time. Sandbags are always kept ready, but let a well get to burning once, and all the sandbags in the world won't stop it."
"I wouldn't want a well to burn," said Bob slowly, "but if one should, I shouldn't mind seeing it."
"You wouldn't see much but thick smoke," rejoined Mr. Gordon. "I've some pictures of burning wells I'll show you when I can get them out.
