"Fertile? Friend, there's an empire waiting to be born, right here, if only they can get water and fuel."
"If we can get the fuel we can pump the water," said Roger. "You're right! There is an empire here. Mineral resources beyond the dreams of avarice, four or five crops a year of food-stuffs. Why, man, millions of people could come in here and be self-sustaining."
"What do you mean by 'in here'?" Von Minden spoke sharply.
Roger hesitated. "I mean really something pretty big. A cheap fuel would open up Arizona, New Mexico, Southern California and Northern old Mexico as no one can conceive who's not studied the subject. If I can put over my experiment, I shall add to the potential wealth of this country as no single individual has ever done. I'm going to get some one's ear at Washington, some day, if it's not till I'm a doddering old man. We ought to have Mexico, you know, because when the inland empire begins to grow, we'll overflow into Mexico. But we never can have her, of course. We can only hope that she'll grow into a real nation we can neighbor with, like Canada."
"Ah hah! And how're you going to bring about this millennium?" asked Von Minden.
But Roger, whose outburst to a stranger had been unprecedented, had nothing more to say on the subject.
"Will your burro eat table scraps?" he inquired.
"Yes, especially bacon rinds. Oh, Peter, come here, liebchen!" he called.
There was a sound of little light footfalls in the sand and Peter's wise gray face appeared in the doorway.
"Come here, sweetheart." The little burro crowded carefully around the table end until his head rested on Von Minden's shoulder. One by one, the old prospector handed up the bacon rinds and biscuits to him and Peter chewed sedately, flopping his ears back and forth.