“Oh, but, Dad, you can’t do that.  You’ll have to give an explanation.  You’ll have to—­”

“The best explanation I can give, Joy, is to find out who held up the stage and killed Tim Harrigan.  It’s the only one that will satisfy me.  It’s the only one that will satisfy my friends.”

“That’s true,” said Sanders.

“Steve Russell is bringin’ hawsses,” said Bob.  “We’ll ride out to the Bend to-night and be ready for business there at the first streak of light.  Must be some trail left by the hold-ups.”

Crawford shook his head.  “Probably not.  Applegate had a posse out there right away.  You know Applegate.  He’d blunder if he had a chance.  His boys have milled all over the place and destroyed any trail that was left.”

“We’ll go out anyhow—­Dave and Steve and I. Won’t do any harm.  We’re liable to discover something, don’t you reckon?”

“Maybeso.  Who’s that knockin’ on the door, Joy?”

Some one was rapping on the front door imperatively.  The girl opened it, to let into the hall a man in greasy overalls.

“Where’s Mr. Crawford?” he demanded excitedly.

“Here.  In the sitting-room.  What’s wrong?”

“Wrong!  Not a thing!” He talked as he followed Joyce to the door of the room.  “Except that Number Three’s come in the biggest gusher ever I see.  She’s knocked the whole superstructure galley-west an’ she’s rip-r’arin’ to beat the Dutch.”

Emerson Crawford leaped to his feet, for once visibly excited.  “What?” he demanded.  “Wha’s that?”

“Jus’ like I say.  The oil’s a-spoutin’ up a hundred feet like a fan.  Before mornin’ the sump holes will be full and she’ll be runnin’ all over the prairie.”

“Burns sent you?”

“Yep.  Says for you to get men and teams and scrapers and gunnysacks and heavy timbers out there right away.  Many as you can send.”

Crawford turned to Bob, his face aglow.  “Yore job, Bob.  Spread the news.  Rustle up everybody you can get.  Arrange with the railroad grade contractor to let us have all his men, teams, and scrapers till we get her hogtied and harnessed.  Big wages and we’ll feed the whole outfit free.  Hire anybody you can find.  Buy a coupla hundred shovels and send ’em out to Number Three.  Get Robinson to move his tent-restaurant out there.”

Hart nodded.  “What about this job at the Bend?” he asked in a low voice.

“Dave and I’ll attend to that.  You hump on the Jackpot job.  Sons, we’re rich, all three of us.  Point is to keep from losin’ that crude on the prairie.  Keep three shifts goin’ till she’s under control.”

“We can’t do anything at the Bend till morning,” said Dave.  “We’d better put the night in helping Bob.”

“Sure.  We’ve got to get all Malapi busy.  A dozen business men have got to come down and open up their stores so’s we can get supplies,” agreed Emerson.

Joyce, her face flushed and eager, broke in.  “Ring the fire bell.  That’s the quickest way.”