n the
car remained the driver and another man.

"My name is Hall," announced the stranger, with a pleasant manner. "I'm
from Washington, D.C. I represent the government and am in the Northwest
in the interest of the Conservation Commission. Your name has been
recommended to me as one of the progressive young wheat-growers of the
Bend; particularly that you are an American, located in a country
exceedingly important to the United States just now--a country where
foreign-born people predominate."

Kurt, somewhat startled and awed, managed to give a courteous greeting
to his visitor, and asked him into the house. But Mr. Hall preferred to
sit outdoors on the porch. He threw off hat and coat, and, taking an
easy chair, he produced some cigars.

"Will you smoke?" he asked, offering one.

Kurt declined with thanks. He was aware of this man's penetrating, yet
kindly scrutiny of him, and he had begun to wonder. This was no ordinary
visitor.

"Have you been drafted?" abruptly queried Mr. Hall.

"Yes, sir. Mine was the first number," replied Kurt, with a little
pride.

"Do you want exemption?" swiftly came the second query.

It shocked Dorn, then stung him.

"No," he said, forcibly.

"Your father's sympathy is with Germany, I understand."

"Well, sir, I don't know how you understand that, but it's true--to my
regret and shame."

"You want to fight?" went on the official.

"I hate the idea of war. But I--I guess I want to fight. Maybe that's
because I'm feeling scrappy over these I.W.W. tricks."

"Dorn, the I.W.W. is only one of the many phases of war that we must
meet," returned Mr. Hall, and then for a moment he thoughtfully drew
upon his cigar.

"Young man, I like your talk. And I'll tell you a secret. My name's not
Hall. Never mind my name. For you it's Uncle Sam!"

Whereupon, with a winning and fascinating manner that seemed to Kurt at
once intimate and flattering, he began to talk fluently of the meaning
of his visit, and of its cardinal importance. The government was looking
far ahead, preparing for a tremendous, and perhaps a lengthy, war. The
food of the country must be conserved. Wheat was one of the most vital
things in the whole world, and the wheat of America was incalculably
precious--only the government knew how precious. If the war was short a
wheat famine would come afterward; if it was long, the famine would come
before the war ended. But it was inevitable. The very outcome of the war
itself