Blake shared his comrade's disappointment. He was tired and hungry, and he felt irritated by Harding's satisfaction. For all that, he chopped wood and made camp, and their frugal supper was half eaten before he turned to the optimistic American.
"Now," he said, "maybe you will tell us why you were so cheerful about this gas."
"First of all," Harding answered good-humoredly, "it indicates that there's oil somewhere about—the two generally go together. Anyway, if there were only gas, it would be worth exploiting, so long as we found enough of it; but judging by the pressure there's not much here."
"What would you do with gas in this wilderness?"
"In due time, I or somebody else would build a town. Fuel's power, and if you could get it cheap, you'd find minerals that would pay for working. Men with money in Montreal and New York are looking for openings like this; no place is too remote to build a railroad to if you can ensure freight."
"You're the most sanguine man I ever met," Blake commented. "Take care your optimism doesn't ruin you."
"I wonder," Harding went on, "whether Clarke knows about this gas? On the whole, I think it probable. We can't be very far from the Stony camp, and there's reason to believe he's been prospecting this district. It's oil he's out for."
"How did the thing get lighted?" Benson asked in an indifferent tone.
Harding smiled as he gave him a sharp glance. He had failed in his search for the gum, and he did not expect his companions to share his enthusiasm over a new plan. They had, however, promised to support him, and that was enough, for he believed he might yet show them the way to prosperity.
"Well," he said, "I guess I can't blame you for not feeling very keen; but that's not the point. I can't answer what you ask, and I believe our forest wardens are now and then puzzled about how bush fires get started. We have crossed big belts of burned trees in a country where we saw no signs of Indians."