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. "You are a good little boy. Now run along out," as the last rind disappeared and the burro trotted sedately out to browse industriously among the roots of the cactus. "He really seems to understand," exclaimed Roger delightedly. "He _knows_!" cried Von Minden. "And now, tell me about this solar heat. How are you going to harness it?" Roger shook his head. "That I won't tell you now. But if you'll come back in three months' time, I'll show you the plant." "You're afraid of me, eh? Well, perhaps that's a good idea. Afraid of me! Afraid of poor old Von Minden! There was a time when--ach! Well--perhaps you'll let me have a nap here on a bench. Then Peter and I'll go on up into the ranges." "Make yourself at home," replied Roger. Von Minden stretched his short length on the bench and closed his eyes. Before Roger had finished the dishes he was snoring. The little burro was standing in the shade of the living tent when Roger came out of the cook shelter. He looked pathetically small and thin and Roger, who had taken a great fancy to him, brought him a pail of water, and scratched his head and talked to him before going on into the tent. Here he was shortly absorbed in sorting his blue prints. He was studying the ground plan of the absorber, when an uncanny sense of being watched made him look over his shoulder. Von Minden, a sawed-off shot-gun aimed at Roger's back, was standing in the doorway. "You will come down here and open up the world's best empire, will you--for America, eh? Not yet, my friend!" Von Minden's voice was husky and unsteady. Roger did not move. In fact, he was incapable of moving.