rson. "Most of this won't
be cut at all. An' what is cut won't yield seedlings. I see a yellow
patch here an' there on the north slopes, but on the most part the
Bend's a failure."

"Father, you remember Dorn's section, that promised so well?" asked
Lenore.

"Yes. But it promised only in case of rain. I look for the worst,"
replied Anderson, regretfully.

"It looks like storm-clouds over there," said Lenore, pointing far
ahead.

Through the drifting veils of heat, far across the bare, dreamy hills of
fallow and the blasted fields of wheat, stood up some huge white
columnar clouds, a vivid contrast to the coppery sky.

"By George! there's a thunderhead!" exclaimed Anderson. "Jake, what do
you make of that?"

"Looks good to me," replied Jake, who was always hopeful.

Lenore bore the hot wind and the fine, choking dust without covering her
face. She wanted to see all the hills and valleys of this desert of
wheat. Her heart beat a little faster as, looking across that waste on
waste of heroic labor, she realized she was nearing the end of a ride
that might be momentous for her. The very aspect of that wide, treeless
expanse, with all its overwhelming meaning, seemed to make her a
stronger and more thoughtful girl. If those endless wheat-fields were
indeed ruined, what a pity, what a tragedy! Not only would young Dorn be
ruined, but perhaps many other toiling farmers. Somehow Lenore felt no
hopeless certainty of ruin for the young man in whom she was interested.

"There, on that slope!" spoke up Anderson, pointing to a field which was
yellow in contrast to the surrounding gray field. "There's a
half-section of fair wheat."

But such tinges of harvest gold were not many in half a dozen miles of
dreary hills. Where were the beautiful shadows in the wheat? wondered
Lenore. Not a breath of wind appeared to stir across those fields.

As the car neared the top of a hill the road curved into another, and
Lenore saw a dusty flash of another car passing on ahead.

Suddenly Jake leaned forward.

"Boss, I seen somethin' throwed out of thet car--into the wheat," he
said.

"What?--Mebbe it was a bottle," replied Anderson, peering ahead.

"Nope. Sure wasn't thet.... There! I seen it again. Watch, boss!"

Lenore strained her eyes and felt a stir of her pulses. Jake's voice was
perturbing. Was it strange that Nash slowed up a little where there was
no apparent need? Then Lenore saw a hand flash out of the side of the
car