"Gentlemen, you are in a land of golden promise," began Senor
Montez, with a smile and a bow. "I should call it more than promise.
Why not? My beloved country, Mexico, has been shipping gold
to the world ever since the days of Montezuma."
"Yes; in a mineral sense Mexico has truly a golden history," nodded
Tom Reade, one of the engineers to whom Montez was speaking.
"And a golden history in every sense," added Senor Montez, with a quick rush of patriotism. "Mexico is the finest country on earth. And, though we are neither as numerous in population, or as progressive as your own great country, still Mexico has greater possibilities than the United States."
Tom was too polite to argue that point. And Harry Hazelton, whom a seventy-mile ride in an automobile over dusty roads, that day, had rendered very drowsy, didn't consider an argument worth while.
"Mexico has almost incredible natural wealth," Montez went on, his voice soft and purring, his eyes glowing with something that might have passed for pride. "Yet, through all the centuries that white men have been here, I am confident that not one per cent. of the country's natural resources has yet been taken from the ground. Enough wealth lies at man's beck and call to change the balance of power between the nations of the world. I have been in your great city, New York. It is a place of tremendous wealth. Yet, within ten years, gold enough can be taken from the ground within a radius of twenty miles of here to buy the whole great city of New York at any sane valuation."
"That purchase would require billions of dollars," broke in the practical Hazelton.
"But the wealth is here," insisted Senor Montez, still smiling. "Truly, caballeros, as I have told you, this is the land of golden—"
Again the Mexican paused, eloquently.
"The land of golden eggs?" suggested Harry.
For an instant there was a flash in the Mexican's eyes. Then the friendly smile reappeared.