s wheat country. I
belong to that. I told you. But the union is run differently this
summer. And I've got work to do--that I don't like, since I fell in love
with you. Come, run off with me and I'll give it up."

Lenore trembled at this admission. She appeared to be close upon further
discovery.

"Harry, how wildly you talk!" she exclaimed. "I hardly know you. You
frighten me with your mysterious talk.... Have--a--a little
consideration for me."

Nash strode back to lean into the car. Behind his huge goggles his eyes
gleamed. His gloved hand closed hard on her arm.

"It is sudden. It's got to be sudden," he said, in fierce undertone.
"You must trust me."

"I will. But you must confide in me," she replied, earnestly. "I'm not
quite a fool. You're rushing me--too--too--"

Suddenly he released her, threw up his hand, then quickly stepped back
to the front of the car. Jake stood in the door of the hotel. He had
seen that action of Nash's. Then Anderson appeared, followed by a boy
carrying a glass of water for Lenore. They approached the car, Jake
sauntering last, with his curious gaze on Nash.

"Go in an' get a bite an' a drink," said Anderson to the driver. "An'
hurry."

Nash obeyed. Jake's eyes never left him until he entered the door. Then
Jake stepped in beside Lenore.

"Thet water's wet, anyhow," he drawled.

"We'll get a good cold drink at Dorn's," said Anderson. "Lass, how are
you makin' it?"

"Fine," she replied, smiling.

"So I seen," significantly added Jake, with a piercing glance at her.

Lenore realized then that she would have to confide in Jake or run the
risk of having violence done to Nash. So she nodded wisely at the cowboy
and winked mischievously, and, taking advantage of Anderson's entering
the car, she whispered in Jake's ear: "I'm finding out things. Tell
you--later."

The cowboy looked anything but convinced; and he glanced with narrowed
eyes at Nash as that worthy hurried back to the car.

With a lurch and a leap the car left Palmer behind in a cloud of dust.
The air was furnace-hot, oppressive, and exceedingly dry. Lenore's lips
smarted so that she continually moistened them. On all sides stretched
dreary parched wheat-fields. Anderson shook his head sadly. Jake said:
"Ain't thet too bad? Not half growed, an' sure too late now."

Near at hand Lenore saw the short immature dirty-whitish wheat, and she
realized that it was ruined.

"It's been gettin' worse, Jake," remarked Ande