“Well, it wasn’t long before he began to figure out how he could get at that gold. And he got the idea of throwing a dam across the canyon here, and backing up the water. I don’t think he ever told any one, but he kind of quizzed around and decided finally that it would cost a lot of money. A million dollars, we made it at a rough guess. So he began to save his gold, instead of gambling and carousing with it down in El Dorado and at the fort. For that matter, I believe the old man always was a grasping, avaricious individual. It’s his nature--I’ve seen it demonstrated all my life. “We’re all living fairly decently now, son. But until I was old enough to assert myself a bit, he almost starved us, he was so keen on saving that million. Even now I have to have a run-in with him, every so often, about the money that goes for living expenses. But he can afford it. He’s got his million, and then some.” “_What?_” “He’s been saving every grain he could scrape together, for fifty years, Rawley. And it’s a good claim--group of claims, rather. No one in the country has ever dreamed that we’ve done more than scratch a living here. Some day, when your arm is well, I’ll show you. Yes, he has his million. “For a long time, now--several years--we’ve been getting ready for the dam. That tunnel you saw is part of the work. When you’re better, I’d like to take you through our workings and see what we’ve done and what we expect to do. Maybe you can give us some advice. We’ve had to use our own wits, because we can’t consult with experts, in the very nature of things. We are not,” he said cynically, “the only vultures in the world. The country would be black with them. And when all’s said and done, we have first right. Why, look at El Dorado! Men sat down there and cursed their luck--and looked straight at the richest gold mine in the world! This canyon was here, everything was here, ready for them to go to work and get the gold just as we are going to do. But nobody thought of it. Sheep--that’s what men are. Not one in a thousand does any thinking outside the beaten path. Nobody _had_ dammed the river to get the gold; they had no precedent to follow--no bell wether to show them the way. So nobody ever thought of the possibility of doing it. Old Jess, I must say, shot up head and shoulders above the ruck when he conceived the idea. His avariciousness and dwelling on that one thought all these years have given him a mental twist. He’d kill any man who seemed to be standing in his way. He’s gone too far now--he has lived with that air castle too long. But my God, think what a castle he’s built!” Peter’s voice was vibrant with emotion. Here, as with Old Jess, was the dream of a lifetime revealed. “Yes--it’s a tremendous scheme,” Rawley admitted guardedly. “I’m afraid it won’t work, Uncle Peter. It doesn’t, somehow, seem feasible.”