Roughneck (1998) by Jim Thompson

Author:Jim Thompson [Thompson, Jim]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Published: 2011-03-14T23:14:55.921000+00:00

Chapter 14

Shorty and Jiggs knew the location of a pot of gold, figuratively but none the less golden: an abandoned oil well with a mile of high grade pipe in it. The well was deep in the heart of eastern Texas on part of a one-time plantation. For years past the worn-out soil of the area had gone unfarmed, and was now a jungle of weeds, bush and second-growth timber. Its present owner would gladly permit the removal of the pipe for a fraction of its resale value.As Shorty told the story, the plantation owner had been so embittered at the drilling contractor's failure to strike oil that he had chased him and his employees from the property at gunpoint. The contractor had sued for recovery of his machinery and equipment. The plantation owner had filed counter suit. Having more money than the contractor, he won after years of litigation. But his victory was an empty one. News of the gentleman's bad temper and stubbornness had spread among the oil field fraternity, and no one would touch the job on a share-salvage basis. It was cash-on-the-line or no deal. So, with the land owner now nearly bankrupt and still as stubborn as ever, it was no deal.

When he died, his heirs split and sold off the property as small farms. As the land went bad, the farms moved from one owner to another. One of them was no longer sufficient to support a family. It took several, and the original forty-acre plots were consolidated and reconsolidated. And even then large areas were so depleted as to be not worth tilling. Thus, the case with the land on which "our" well stood.

"I don't know, Shorty," I said, when he first told me the story. "It sounds like another oil field fairy tale, just too damned good to be true. You actually saw it yourself?"

"Damned right I did. I didn't believe the story myself when I first heard it, so not having nothing else to do, I looked the place up. I talked to the guy that owns the land, and then I waded on out through the jungle and looked at the well. It's there, by God. More than five thousand feet of highgrade casing. And it's free ' I mean, it ain't frozen in the hole. I rocked it and I know."

"But it might be cemented part way down. If it was cemented, say at a thousand feet, you could still get some sway."

"Why the hell would it be cemented? They didn't strike oil."

"Well," I shrugged, "I don't know. Maybe that plantation owner did it. He might have been afraid that someone would steal the pipe, so--"

"But he couldn't have got it out himself if he did that! Ain't that right?' I know how you feel, Jim. It sounds so bee-yoo-tiful you figure there's just got to be something wrong, but there ain't a danged thing."

"The derrick and the rig and the tools are still there? They're still in good shape?"

"Good enough to do the job.

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