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Upon which, they sent poor Dorn with the sealed trunk in CORPORE, to have it opened by Voltaire himself. Dorn, naturally, ran to a Lawyer. Voltaire, dreading Trial for intended Homicide, instantly gathered himself; and shot away, self and Pucelle with Collini, clear off; leaving Niece Denis, leaving moneys and other things, to wait till to-morrow, and settle as they could.
He led the way through a narrow court and entered a large, dimly-lighted room. Blank white walls stared at them. Von Stinnes picked out a table in a corner and ordered two flasks of wine from a stout woman with a large wooden ring of keys at her black waist. They drank in silence. Dorn observed an unusual air about his friend. He thought of Mathilde's suspicions, and smiled.
As he entered the cafe' he saw Dorn seated at a table in a far corner listening calmly to a man who was obviously angrily in earnest. At second glance he recognized Tony Rivers, one of Dick Kelly's shrewdest lieutenants and a labor leader of great influence in the unions of factory workers.
"Dorn, we're up against a bad outfit an' the Northwest will see hell this summer. There's trouble in Montana and Idaho. Strangers are driftin' into Washington from all over. We must organize to meet them to prevent them gettin' a hold out here. It's a labor union, mostly aliens, with dishonest an' unscrupulous leaders, some of them Americans. They aim to take advantage of the war situation.
I have my reasons for doubting the story; it must have been something more than that, to spread such a panic; for they certainly had time to ascertain the truth of the attack before they beat the long roll and sent out their troops, for if it had been Van Dorn, he would have been on them before that.
Son, we're sendin' thousands of soldiers a day now ships are buildin' fast aeroplanes comin' like a swarm of bees money for the government to burn an' every American gettin' mad.... Dorn, the Germans don't know they're ruined!... What do you say?" Dorn looked very strange. "Lenore, help me stand up," he asked, with strong tremor in his voice. "Oh, Kurt, you're not able yet," appealed Lenore.
Van Dorn was as small as her companion, but with a confidence of manner which seemed to push her forward in the field of vision farther than her size warranted. She was also highly corseted, and much trimmed over her shoulders, which gave an effect of superior size and weight; her face, too, was very full and rosy, while the other's was narrow and pinched at the chin and delicately transparent.
Warren folded his newspapers and left. Dorn sat scribbling possible headlines for the next re-plate: "Germans Bombard Paris ..." and then a bank in smaller type: "French Capital Silent. Communication Cut Off." He paused and added with a sudden elation, "Civilization on Its Knees." The hum and suspense of the night-watch pleased him.
Kurt was actually afraid to tell his father, who never read newspapers, who knew little of what was going on, that if the Allies were to win the war it was wheat that would be the greatest factor. Instead of that he said if the I.W.W. inaugurated strikes and disorder in the Northwest it would embarrass the government. "Then I'll hire I.W.W. men," said old Dorn.
"How can I even do a man's work again in the fields?" Lenore smiled bravely at him. "You will sow more wheat than ever, and harvest more, too." "I should smile," corroborated Anderson. "But how? I've only one arm," said Dorn. "Kurt, you hug me better with that one arm than you ever did with two arms." replied Lenore, in sublime assurance. "Son, you lose that argument," roared Anderson.
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