with the other
hand he searched Nash's inside coat pockets, to tear forth a packet of
letters. Then Anderson released him and stepped back. "Get out of that
car!" he thundered.

Nash made a slow movement, as if to comply, then suddenly he threw on
the power. The car jerked forward.

Anderson leaped to get one hand on the car door, the other on Nash. He
almost pulled the driver out of his seat. But Nash held on desperately,
and the car, gaining momentum, dragged Anderson. He could not get his
feet up on the running-board, and suddenly he fell.

Lenore screamed and tore frantically at the handle of the door. Nash
struck her, jerked her back into the seat. She struggled until the car
shot full speed ahead. Then it meant death for her to leap out.

"Sit still, or you'll kill yourself." shouted Nash, hoarsely.

Lenore fell back, almost fainting, with the swift realization of what
had happened.

CHAPTER IX

Kurt Dorn had indeed no hope of ever seeing Lenore Anderson again, and
he suffered a pang that seemed to leave his heart numb, though
Anderson's timely visit might turn out as providential as the saving
rain-storm. The wheat waved and rustled as if with renewed and bursting
life. The exquisite rainbow still shone, a beautiful promise, in the
sky. But Dorn could not be happy in that moment.

This day Lenore Anderson had seemed a bewildering fulfilment of the
sweetness he had imagined was latent in her. She had meant what was
beyond him to understand. She had gently put a hand to his lips, to
check the bitter words, and he had dared to kiss her soft fingers. The
thrill, the sweetness, the incomprehensible and perhaps imagined
response of her pulse would never leave him. He watched the big car
until it was out of sight.

The afternoon was only half advanced and there were numberless tasks to
do. He decided he could think and plan while he worked. As he was about
to turn away he espied another automobile, this one coming from the
opposite direction to that Anderson had taken. The sight of it reminded
Dorn of the I.W.W. trick of throwing phosphorus cakes into the wheat. He
was suspicious of that car. It slowed down in front of the Dorn
homestead, turned into the yard, and stopped near where Dorn stood. The
dust had caked in layers upon it. Someone hailed him and asked if this
was the Dorn farm. Kurt answered in the affirmative, whereupon a tall
man, wearing a long linen coat, opened the car door to step out. I