Betty, too, was pleased. The boy found it easy to call Mr. Gordon "Uncle Dick," and as time went on and they became firmer friends it seemed most natural that he should do so.
They were approaching the oil fields gradurally, the road, which was full of treacherous ruts, being anything but straight. Whenever they met a team or another car, which was infrequently, they had to stop far to one side and let the other vehicle pass. Betty was much impressed with her first near view of the immense derricks.
"What a lot of them!" she said. "Just like a forest, isn't it, Uncle Dick?"
Her uncle frowned preoccupiedly.
"Those are not our fields," he announced curtly. "They're mostly the property of small leaseholders. It is mighty wasteful, Betty, to drill like that, cutting up the land into small holdings, and is bound to make trouble. They have no storage facilities, and if the pipe lines can't take all the oil produced, there is congestion right away. Also many of the leases are on short terms, and that means they've the one idea of getting all the oil out they can while they hold the land. So they tend to exhaust the sands early, and violate the principles of conservation."
They were following the road through the oil fields now, and presently Mr. Gordon announced that they were on his company's holdings. At
