You cross on it every day, six days in the week. That's say, twenty-five days a month, or three hundred a year.
Now long does it take you one way?
Forty minutes, if you're lucky.
I'm going to put you across in twenty minutes.
If that ain't making two minutes grow where one grew before, knock off my head with little apples.
I'll save you twenty minutes each way.
That's forty minutes a day, times three hundred, equals twelve thousand minutes a year, just for you, just for one person.
Let's see: that's two hundred whole hours.
Suppose I save two hundred hours a year for thousands of other folks,—that's farming some, ain't it?"
Dede could only nod breathlessly. She had caught the contagion of his enthusiasm, though she had no clew as to how this great time-saving was to be accomplished.
"Come on," he said.
"Let's ride up that hill, and when I get you out on top where you can see something, I'll talk sense."
A small footpath dropped down to the dry bed of the canon, which they crossed before they began the climb.
The slope was steep and covered with matted brush and bushes, through which the horses slipped and lunged.
Bob, growing disgusted, turned back suddenly and attempted to pass Mab. The mare was thrust sidewise into the denser bush, where she nearly fell.
Recovering, she flung her weight against Bob. Both riders' legs were caught in the consequent squeeze, and, as Bob plunged ahead down hill, Dede was nearly scraped off.
Daylight threw his horse on to its haunches and at the same time dragged Dede back into the saddle.
Showers of twigs and leaves fell upon them, and predicament followed predicament, until they emerged on the hilltop the worse for wear but happy and excited.
Here no trees obstructed the view. The particular hill on which they were, out-jutted from the regular line of the range, so that the sweep of their vision extended over three-quarters of the circle.
Below, on the flat land bordering the bay, lay Oakland, and across the bay was San Francisco. Between the two cities they could see the white ferry-boats on the water.
Around to their right was Berkeley, and to their left the scattered villages between Oakland and San Leandro.
Directly in the foreground was Piedmont, with its desultory dwellings and patches of farming land, and from Piedmont the land rolled down in successive waves upon Oakland.
"Look at it," said Daylight, extending his arm in a sweeping gesture.
"A hundred thousand people there, and no reason there shouldn't be half a million.
There's the chance to make five people grow where one grows now.
Here's the scheme in a nutshell.
Why don't more people live in Oakland?
No good service with San Francisco, and, besides, Oakland is asleep.
It's a whole lot better place to live in than San Francisco.
Now, suppose I buy in all the street railways of Oakland, Berkeley, Alameda, San Leandro, and the rest,—bring them under one head with a competent management?
Suppose I cut the time to San Francisco one-half by building a big pier out there almost to Goat Island and establishing a ferry system with modern up-to-date boats?
Why, folks will want to live over on this side.
Very good.
They'll need land on which to build.
So, first I buy up the land.
But the land's cheap now.
Why?
Because it's in the country, no electric roads, no quick communication, nobody guessing that the electric roads are coming.
I'll build the roads.
That will make the land jump up.
Then I'll sell the land as fast as the folks will want to buy because of the improved ferry system and transportation facilities.
"You see, I give the value to the land by building the roads.
Then I sell the land and get that value back, and after that, there's the roads, all carrying folks back and forth and earning big money.
Can't lose.
And there's all sorts of millions in it.
"I'm going to get my hands on some of that water front and the tide-lands.
Take between where I'm going to build my pier and the old pier. It's shallow water.
I can fill and dredge and put in a system of docks that will handle hundreds of ships.
San Francisco's water front is congested. No more room for ships.
With hundreds of ships loading and unloading on this side right into the freight cars of three big railroads, factories will start up over here instead of crossing to San Francisco.