.
He sensed events. He revolved in mind the need for him to be cool and
decisive when facing the circumstances that were sure to arise.

At Glencoe, which was reached so speedily that Kurt could scarcely
credit his eyes, the official said; "You'll hear from me. Good-by and
good luck!"

Kurt hired a young man he knew to drive him over to Wheatly. All the way
Kurt brooded about his father's strange action. The old man had left
home before the rain-storm. How did he know he could guarantee so many
bushels of wheat as the selling-price indicated? Kurt divined that his
father had acted upon one of his strange weather prophecies. For he must
have been absolutely sure of rain to save the wheat.

Darkness had settled down when Kurt reached Wheatly and left the car at
the railroad station. Wheatly was a fairly good-sized little town. There
seemed to be an unusual number of men on the dark streets. Dim lights
showed here and there. Kurt passed several times near groups of
conversing men, but he did not hear any significant talk.

Most of the stores were open and well filled with men, but to Kurt's
sharp eyes there appeared to be much more gossip going on than business.
The town was not as slow and quiet as was usual with Bend towns. He
listened for war talk, and heard none. Two out of every three men who
spoke in his hearing did not use the English language. Kurt went into
the office of the first hotel he found. There was no one present. He
glanced at an old register lying on the desk. No guests had registered
for several days.

Then Kurt went out and accosted a man leaning against a hitching-rail.

"What's going on in this town?"

The man stood rather indistinctly in the uncertain light. Kurt, however,
made out his eyes and they were regarding him suspiciously.

"Nothin' onusual," was the reply.

"Has harvesting begun in these parts?"

"Some barley cut, but no wheat. Next week, I reckon."

"How's the wheat?"

"Some bad an' some good."

"Is this town a headquarters for the I.W.W.?"

"No. But there's a big camp of I.W.W.'s near here. Reckon you're one of
them union fellers?"

"I am not," declared Kurt, bluntly.

"Reckon you sure look like one, with thet gun under your coat."

"Are you going to hire I.W.W. men?" asked Kurt, ignoring the other's
observation.

"I'm only a farm-hand," was the sullen reply. "An' I tell you I won't
join no I.W.W."

Kurt spared himself a moment to give this fellow a few strong pr