“I have. I have come to tell you that there are other ideas bigger than yours, and a power behind them that will make yours look like building a toy dam in the sand, like kids. You must have read of it in the papers. There’s been all kinds of publicity given to the project.” “You’re right. There’s been a heap of talk,” Peter retorted. “The papers have done the talking, and we’ve been sawing wood and keeping our mouths shut. While they’re still talking and arguing and speechifying, we’ll put ’er in. There’s nothing the matter with that, is there? Take the wind out of their sails, maybe, especially the fellows that have their speeches all written out, ready for the next banquet. But,--_the dam will be in_! They’ll have some work, trying to get around that point. “You ask if we’ve read the papers. I have. They’ve been talking about spending a hundred million dollars. We’ve spent one. They’ve been fiddling along the river, looking to see if it’s feasible. We’ve kept right on digging. They thought we were _mining_--the only party that discovered our diggings. They were very patronizing, very polite, and they talked about the wonderful things a dam would do for us. Is that what you came to tell us, son?” Rawley leaned back against the wall and laid one foot across the other knee, tapping his boot with his finger tips. He was facing them all. He must convince them, somehow, and he must batter down the dream of a lifetime to do it. “No, you’ve read most of the talk,” he told Peter. “I admit the thing has almost been talked to death. It begins to look as though the general public is tired of reading about damming the Colorado. If that were all there is to it, Peter, I’d never say a word. But there are some facts we can’t get around with talk, or defiance. I came here to show them to you--just plain, hard facts--and let you see for yourself what they mean. “In the first place--and this is probably the hardest fact you have to face--the Colorado is an international stream. It flows through a part of Mexico. The Constitution of the United States has decreed that such rivers must at all times and in every particular be under the control of the Federal Government. There are seven States bordering this river, yet not one of them dare build a dam without the consent and supervision of the government. Get that firmly planted in your minds, folks.” Young Jess turned his head an inch and slanted a look at Old Jess. Old Jess crossed his legs, folded his arms and trotted one rusty boot, waggling his beard while he chewed tobacco complacently. No one could fail to read his mind, just then. He was thinking that what seven States were afraid to do, he, Jess Cramer, had dared. The joke was on the seven States, according to Old Jess’s viewpoint.