“True,” said Doctor Trigg. “The mountains contain not only gold, copper and iron, but ninety-five per cent of all the platinum in the world. For you, little Dulcie, and for millions like you, for that delicate chain on your neck, and that pretty ring.” “Costly enough,” added Doctor Sims gloomily. “There are jewels to hang on your platinum chains, too. Stores of tourmalines, chrysoberyls, and lovely pale aquamarines hide in the Urals.” “And the endless trickle of bloodstained gold and gems seeps slowly out, year after year and generation after generation, to trick and beautify and amuse the world,” said Doctor Sims. “Gr-r-r-r-r!” “History repeats itself forever,” said Mr. Hamilton. “There are other riches, too,” Doctor Trigg went on. “North of us, as I make out our present position, lie vast deposits of unmined oil. Whole lakes of it have escaped from the earth, and have spread over acres of sodden ground.” “Hmmm,” said Wally. “Something ought to be done about that, if it’s so.” “It is not officially substantiated,” said Doctor Trigg, “but an old student of mine, who turned out to be a globe-trotter, told me that he had actually seen several of those lakes of oil. He said they were a remarkable sight. He made various tests, and reported that the oil in Siberia seems practically limitless.” “Well, we will need that oil some day,” said Mr. Hamilton. “Question is, what will we have to pay for it?” “Gr-r-r-r-r,” said Doctor Sims. “Before that time comes, the face of civilization will have assumed some new grimace, and the question will answer itself.” “Well, it’s a perfectly horrid country,” declared Dulcie. “Yes, yet lonely and savage and remote as it is, it has contrived to paint a few garish pictures on the page of time. Look at the Gobi Desert, far south of us. Read of Marco Polo’s journeys there; his terrific adventures, about the year 1272, when—” “Marco Polo,” interrupted Doctor Sims. “Why go back to Marco Polo for interest? Think of our own Roy Chapman Andrews, and what he has discovered there. Think of those dinosaur eggs! The Peking Man!” “I read about those,” said Dulcie brightly. “But do you know what we have done? We have talked and talked all morning. Here comes luncheon. Oh, Doctor Trigg, you simply know everything!” “Gar—yah!” said Doctor Sims, cryptically. Doctor Trigg looked at him over his glasses. “I should know almost everything, my dear,” he agreed. “You see, I have been closely associated with Doctor Sims here for forty years, and having a retentive memory, I have been able to collect and assimilate a vast amount of information.” “Chops,” said Doctor Sims to the waiter.