Gustav grinned. "That vas good. I don't vant to go, sure."
"Were you in New York?" asked Roger vaguely. "War in Europe! I can't realize it."
"Why try?" suggested Ernest. "It'll be over before you succeed. What's a war in Europe to us, anyhow? Let's go in to supper."
War was indeed a vague and shadowy affair to the little desert community: quite overshadowed by the importance of Ernest's successful trip. Roger did brood a good deal for a day or so over the disclosures in the bundle of newspapers, then the excitement of the testing of the plant swallowed everything else in life.
There was no ceremony about this test. The memory of that other trial, with little Felicia as the central figure, was too fresh and too poignant. Just before the girls called breakfast on Monday morning, there sounded a soft chug, chug from the new engine house. It was so very soft that at first Charley thought she must be mistaken. Then she slipped out to see. Roger, his hot face tense and eager, was standing before his engine watching the perfect mechanism play.
"Look at her, Charley! Look at her! Isn't she a dream? Ernest, look at that indicator—does she do any work? Has she power? Why man, she could pull the waters of the Yangtse Kiang up through the bowels of the earth and throw 'em on Dick's alfalfa fields!"
Ernest stood staring at the engine, round eyed, his mouth open! "Man, what have you been putting over on me! Why, Rog, the old girl is practically noiseless. Throw in the pump, will you?"
Dick promptly threw in the pump, but almost immediately roared. "Hey, slow her down! Slow her down! She's going to pull the pump up by the roots."
"Rog, let's see your drawings a minute, you old sly boots, you!" said Ernest.
"You will laugh at me and tell me to increase the absorber area, will you!" exclaimed Roger. "Why, old man, I've developed the low temperature, high speed engine! It's the one the world has been looking for for years!"