CHAPTER XI
AN OIL FIRE
Mr. Gordon had arrived the night of the disastrous laundry experiment, and made his announcement at the supper table.
"An oil fire!" ejaculated Betty. "Where is it? Won't it burn the offices and houses? Perhaps they'll have it put out before we get there!"
Mr. Gordon did not seem to be at all excited, and continued to eat his supper placidly. He looked tired, and he later admitted that he had slept little the night before, having spent the time discussing ways of putting out the fire with the well foreman.
"No, we'll get to it in plenty of time in the morning," he assured his niece. "An oil fire is less dangerous than expensive, my dear. We've got a man coming up from beyond Tippewa with a sand blast on the first train. Telegraphed for him to-night. It will cost fifteen hundred dollars to put the fire out, but it's worth it."
"Fifteen hundred dollars!" Betty stared aghast.
"Well, think of the barrels of oil burning up," returned her uncle. "The fire's been going since
