"Perhaps I could get something to eat here," said the stranger.
"Certainly," returned Roger, not too enthusiastically. He did not know desert hospitality, excepting what he had met at the Preble ranch. The man turned promptly to the burro.
"I'll take off your pack, Peter, if you see to it that you don't stray."
The burro looked at his master with the gaze of a wise old dog and, relieved of his pack, moved slowly to the shade of the living tent. Roger, looking his guest over, from faded overalls and blue flannel shirt to battered sombrero, led the way into the cook tent.
"Whew!" said the stranger. "Sun's getting higher. Noons are hot. When did you reach these parts?"
"A couple of weeks ago. My name's Moore,—Roger Moore."
The man nodded. "Mine's Otto von Minden. I'm an engineer. Been in the desert country ten years."
Roger was moving about, making coffee and slicing bacon. "What are you doing, prospecting?" he asked.
Von Minden jerked a quick look at Roger from a pair of small brown eyes. "Yes, I'm prospecting. What are you doing?"
"Experimenting with solar heat. This is the place to get it if this noon is a promise of more to come."