with the chauffeur. Upon the moment
they glanced up to see Mr. Anderson approaching, and they rather
hurriedly departed. Dorn had noted a good many strangers lately--men
whose garb was not that of farmers, whose faces seemed foreign, whose
actions were suspicious.

"I'll bet a hundred they're I.W.W.'s," declared Anderson. "Take my
hunch, Dorn."

The strangers passed on down the road without looking back.

"Wonder where they'll sleep to-night?" muttered Dorn.

Anderson rather sharply asked his driver what the two men wanted. And
the reply he got was that they were inquiring about work.

"Did they speak English?" went on the rancher.

"Well enough to make themselves understood," replied the driver.

Dorn did not get a good impression from the shifty eyes and air of
taciturnity of Mr. Anderson's man, and it was evident that the blunt
rancher restrained himself. He helped his daughter into the car, and
then put on his long coat. Next he shook hands with Dorn.

"Young man, I've enjoyed meetin' you, an' have sure profited from same,"
he said. "Which makes up for your dad! I'll run over here again to see
you--around harvest-time. An' I'll be wishin' for that rain."

"Thank you. If it does rain I'll be happy to see you," replied Dorn,
with a smile.

"Well, if it doesn't rain I won't come. I'll put it off another year,
an' cuss them other fellers into holdin' off, too."

"You're very kind. I don't know how I'd--we'd ever repay you in that
case."

"Don't mention it. Say, how far did you say it was to Palmer? We'll have
lunch there."

"It's fifteen miles--that way," answered Dorn. "If it wasn't for--for
father I'd like you to stay--and break some of my bread."

Dorn was looking at the girl as he spoke. Her steady gaze had been on
him ever since she entered the car, and in the shade of her hat and the
veil she was adjusting her eyes seemed very dark and sweet and
thoughtful. She brightly nodded her thanks as she held the veil aside
with both hands.

"I wish you luck. Good-by," she said, and closed the veil.

Still, Dorn could see her eyes through it, and now they were sweeter,
more mysterious, more provocative of haunting thoughts. It flashed over
him with dread certainty that he had fallen in love with her. The shock
struck him mute. He had no reply for the rancher's hearty farewell. Then
the car lurched away and dust rose in a cloud.

CHAPTER III

With a strange knocking of his heart, high up toward