"Heat!" cried the stranger with sudden excitement. "Heat! God! What I have known of heat. Blistering, burning, blinding! Nights when the very star rays scorch and the moon's a caldron of white lava. Ten years of it, Moore, ten years!"
Roger looked at his guest with interest. "You aren't an American? There's just a little accent in your speech."
"Me? No. I'm German born and bred. What are you going to do with your solar heat?"
"Harness it," replied Roger, "and see if I can make it work for me."
"There's a fool born every minute," said Von Minden.
"You're quite right," returned Roger, cheerfully.
There was no further conversation until Roger had put the coffee, bacon and cold biscuits with a can of pie-fruit on the table. Von Minden fell to voraciously. His table manners were very bad, his hands were dirty but there was something about him that interested Roger.
"I've had great trouble getting water," he said. "Just struck it, this noon. 'Twill be enough for drinking and my condenser, I guess, but nothing for irrigation."
"Can't do anything with a dug well, here," grunted the guest. "Better drive one."
"Is the sand really fertile in this region?" asked Roger.