Adventure Magazine, March 1916 — page 105: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

The Pillar of Flame grinned, taking a chair and tipping on to its hind legs, “‘with that there cannon.” “Cannone” questioned Red, “‘cannon?” “Yes, sah! They-uns is blowing holes in the rock-ribbed landscape ter beat two of a kind. It’s a mighty positive fact that the man what’s aiming it don’t know how. But then, everybody stands behind, so I reckon they’s safe if th’ doggone thing don’t bust.” “But what in Heaven’s name are they firing a cannon at?” “At the pillar of flame, I reckon. They- all can’t get within a hundred or two yards of the oil-well, so they’s tryin’ ter blow th’ top of the pipe off. I allow as maybe they may do it, but they shore has got to aim some closer than they’s done yet.” - It was nearly sunset before Red managed to get out, and then he was stiff and sore all over. But the exercise did him good, and he finally reached the brow of the hill from which he had looked at the well-drilling. Almost as he reached the spot, the sun sank, and in a few moments it was dark, or would have been, but for the light from the flaming well. A grand sight spread before him. The derrick was, of course, burned out long ago, and the great column of burning oil shot up into the quickly darkening sky with a great roar and flame. For eighty feet or so it rushed, straight and true, without a break, one bright shaft that hurt the eyes to look at, and the heat could be felt at even that distance. Off to one side lay the two pools of oil, shining red in the fierce light, and looking indescribably menacing and full of. threat. Back a distance he could see the cannon, for the whole of the valley was light as day, every little detail being brought out plain and distinct by the great glare. Here and there knots of men were standing at a safe distance from the blaze. And on the tops of the hills were other scattered groups and single figures. As he looked, the wonder grew that the two pools of oil should have escaped the ex- plosion, but there they were, gleaming in the firelight, their three or four hundred thousand barrels safe, so far. After standing a while, Red turned and went back to his shack, for he was still weak and sick from the tumbling of the explosion. The roar of the cannon awoke him again the next morning, and after a hasty breakfast he clapped on his hat and started over toward the well. < 103 ‘ The foreman was standing back of it as he drew near, and grunted. . “So. you got out all right, did ye? Well, you're luckier than many another poor boy, so ye are. You got some money coming to ye, but you can’t get it now. Come——” His voice was drowned in the roar of the cannon, only to rise again in a series of fluent profanities as the ball went wild. “YT don’t believe you.could hit a hay- stack,” he told the one who was firing. “Try it yourself then!” returned the man, ‘An eight-inch pipe at this distance ain’t no cinch, I tell you.” It was not. For as much of the pipe as showed above the ground was red with Pg heat, and then, as Red stood watching — them load again, there came to his mind a fire he had seen somewhere else. “Say,” he broke in, laying a hand on the arm of the foreman, “it’s a blamed good thing that he can’t hit it! You’d have some swell time if he did.” “What do you think——” “T don’t think anything about it—I know! You think that if you hit the pipe with a cannon-ball it would cut off the sup- ply long enough to let the flame travel up and out of the way. Don’t believe it! There would only be a fraction of a second, while the cannon-ball was passing, and the gas would catch up with the flame again. | “One thing you would do, you’d scatter the fire all over the valley, and if you once: do that, good night! You’ve got close to half a million barrels of oil in those two | pools, and the ground around and every little twig and stick is soaked with it. How long do you suppose it would take the red-hot tip of that pipe to start the wood and ground jo blazing, and once you get even a little blaze started, how long do you reckon it would be before the whole parish was in flames?” The Irishman stood and listened to him, at first with a rather sarcastic smile, which slowly sobered to a thoughtful one, and, as Red finished he turned and surveyed the well. Many of the workmen had gathered round and were listening anxiously to the controversy. “That settles me!’’ said the one who had . been aiming the cannon. “I’m not looking for no job as a cherubim up on high. Not me! This guy seems to know what he’s talk- ing about; anyway, it sounds = “Who asked you to butt in?” snapped the foreman, turning around. EComichboo (E(0)