dirty, them I.W.W.'s hev done it!... Kurt, we're in fer hell! Thet
wind's blowin' straight this way."

"Jerry, we'll fight till we drop," replied Kurt. "Tell the men and
father to keep on searching for phosphorus cakes.... Jerry, you keep to
the high ground. Watch for fires starting on our land. If you see one
yell for us and make for it. Wheat burns slow till it gets started. We
can put out fires if we're quick."

"Kurt, there ain't no chance on earth fer us!" yelled Jerry, pale with
anger. His big red hands worked. "If fire starts we've got to hev a lot
of men.... By Gawd! if I ain't mad!"

"Don't quit, Jerry," said Kurt, fiercely. "You never can tell. It looks
hopeless. But we'll never give up. Hustle now!"

Jerry shuffled off as old Dorn came haltingly, as if stunned, toward
Kurt. But Kurt did not want to face his father at that moment. He needed
to fight to keep up his own courage.

"Never mind that!" yelled Kurt, pointing at Olsen's hill. "Keep looking
for those damned pieces of phosphorus!"

With that Kurt dove into the wheat, and, sweeping wide his arms to make
a passage, he strode on, his eyes bent piercingly upon the ground close
about him. He did not penetrate deeper into the wheat from the road than
the distance he estimated a strong arm could send a stone. Almost at
once his keen sight was rewarded. He found a cake of phosphorus half
buried in the soil. It was dry, hard and hot either from the sun or its
own generating power. That inspired Kurt. He hurried on. Long practice
enabled him to slip through the wheat as a barefoot country boy could
run through the corn-fields. And his passion gave him the eyes of a
hunting hawk sweeping down over the grass. To and fro he passed within
the limits he had marked, oblivious to time and heat and effort. And
covering that part of the wheat-field bordering the road he collected
twenty-seven cakes of phosphorus, the last few of which were so hot they
burnt his hands.

Then he had to rest. He appeared as wet as if he had been plunged into
water; his skin burned, his eyes pained, his breast heaved. Panting and
spent, he lay along the edge of the wheat, with closed eyelids and lax
muscles.

When he recovered he rose and went back along the road. The last quarter
of the immense wheat-field lay upon a slope of a hill, and Kurt had to
mount this before he could see the valley. From the summit he saw a
sight that caused him to utter a loud exclamation. Many columns of