went on Kurt.

"My name is Dennis," gloomily returned the man.

"It certainly is. _That_ is the name of all I.W.W.'s," said Kurt.

"Say, are you the fellow who had the shot-gun?"

"I sure am," replied Kurt.

"I ought to knock you on the head."

"Why?"

"Because I'll have to eat standing up for a month."

"Yes?" queried Kurt.

"The seat of my pants must have made a good target, for you sure pasted
it full of birdshot."

Kurt smothered a laugh. Then he felt the old anger leap up. "Didn't you
burn my wheat?"

"Are you that young Dorn?"

"Yes, I am," replied Kurt, hotly.

"Well, I didn't burn one damn straw of your old wheat."

"You didn't! But you're with these men? You're an I.W.W. You've been
fighting these farmers here."

"If you want to know, I'm a tramp," said the man, bitterly. "Years ago I
was a prosperous oil-producer in Ohio. I had a fine oil-field. Along
comes a big fellow, tries to buy me out, and, failing that, he shot off
dynamite charges into the ground next my oil-field.... Choked my wells!
Ruined me!... I came west--went to farming. Along comes a corporation,
steals my water for irrigation--and my land went back to desert.... So I
quit working and trying to be honest. It doesn't pay. The rich men are
getting all the richer at the expense of the poor. So now I'm a tramp."

"Friend, that's a hard-luck story," said Kurt. "It sure makes me
think.... But I'll tell you what--you don't belong to this I.W.W.
outfit, even if you are a tramp."

"Why not?"

"Because you're American! That's why."

"Well, I know I am. But I can be American and travel with a labor union,
can't I?"

"No. This I.W.W. is no labor union. It never was. Their very first rule
is to abolish capital. They're anarchists. And now they're backed by
German money. The I.W.W. is an enemy to America. All this hampering of
railroads, destruction of timber and wheat, is an aid to Germany in the
war. The United States is at war! My God! man, can't you see it's your
own country that must suffer for such deals as this wheat-burning
to-night?"

"The hell you say!" ejaculated the man, in amaze.

"This Glidden is a German agent--perhaps a spy. He's no labor leader.
What does he care for the interests of such men as you?"

"Young man, if you don't shut up you'll give me a hankering to go back
to real work."

"I hope I do. Let me give you a hunch. Throw down this I.W.W. outfit. Go
to Ruxton and get Anderson of 'Many Waters' ranch