“You didn’t know that, did you? No one has told the Colorado River Commission, until now, when I am telling you, that twenty-five miles from here, in the cliffs beside the river, there is at this moment peacefully reposing a giant ready to rise up and fling rocks into the river, and lie back again when all is done, to watch the Colorado halt in its headlong rush to the sea! I will be more explicit, gentlemen.
“In the cliffs, ready to shoot—bear that always in mind—I have five hundred thousand pounds of blasting powder, and fifty thousand pounds of forty per cent. dynamite, so disposed that, fired simultaneously on both sides of the river, the volume of rock will meet midway and drop into the channel. Some distance up the river, I have an auxiliary dam built, ready to blow at a moment’s notice if the main dam seems in danger of not holding against the terrific pressure of the Colorado’s flow.
“Incidentally—I had nearly forgotten to tell you—I have perhaps the oldest, most complete private record of the flow, rise and fall of the Colorado River in existence. The record goes back thirty-nine years, gentlemen. I still use a gauge which I invented when I was about fifteen, and I find that it is practical, though crude.
“I have planned the auxiliary dam, as I call it, to check and help hold the pressure against the main dam, if necessary. In flood time the force is terrific; I have provided against that. The auxiliary dam, if thrown in, will give me time to strengthen the main dam. I have not expected that one big blast will end the matter. Once that is in, and further secrecy impossible, I shall be prepared to rush one hundred men, whose names and addresses I have on file, to work with compressors (two on each side of the river, each one portable and capable of running three drills each—with jack hammers and expert men behind them). These will rush another system of undermining, so that a second installment of Black Canyon can be heaved in upon the first.
“You will bear in mind, gentlemen, that we are first in the field by a good many laborious years. I grant you that the idea was born in greed. The eye of the vultures have dwelt upon the gold in the river, these fifty years. But even the vulture must give way to the Eagle. I have seen the wing of the Eagle spread, and its shadow has touched our dam in Black Canyon. Gentlemen, the vulture has come to make terms with the Eagle.”
That, for reasons best known to the Commission, was applauded. A great man asked a question.
“How much, approximately, have you spent in this undertaking?”
Peter glanced down at a slip of paper in his hand.
“It is something I have waited to tell you. I divided our capital into budgets, as follows:
“A dredger, now waiting at Needles to be towed up the river, four hundred thousand dollars. (That, of course, is our personal property and need not be considered in our negotiations, if any are carried on.) Fund for payment of damages to property caused by blasting, one hundred thousand dollars. (That, I thought, should pay for all the windows and crockery we may break, and that remains in bank until such time as we need it.) Property bought along the river above the dam site, which may be inundated, fifty thousand. Incidental expenses covering a period of years, fifty thousand. Explosives, wiring, battery and cement—with hush money paid out—one hundred thousand dollars.