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The harvest-hands ran wildly around, shouting and calling, evidently unable to do anything. The line of wagons full of wheat-sheaves broke up; men dragged at the plunging horses. Then flame followed the smoke out of the thresher. "I've heard of threshers catchin' fire," said Anderson, as if dumfounded, "but I never seen one.... Now how on earth did that happen?"
"To destroy my wheat, to drive off or bribe the harvest-hands, to cripple the crop yield in the Northwest; to draw the militia here; in short, to harass an' weaken an' slow down our government in its preparation against Germany." "Why, that is terrible!" declared Lenore. "I've a hunch from Jake there's a whisper of a plot to put me out of the way," said Anderson, darkly. "Oh good Heavens!
Booted and spurred, with his gun swinging visibly, and his big sombrero and gaudy scarf, he looked exactly what he was, a cowman of the open ranges. His inquiries elicited the fact that Neuman was out in the fields, waiting for the harvest-hands. "Wal, if he's expectin' thet outfit of I.W.W.'s he'll never harvest," said Jake, "for some of them is hanged an' the rest run out of the country."
Jake fancied he knew why the rancher had put off his harvesting. And also he knew that the extra force of harvest-hands would not appear. He was regarded with curiosity by the women members of the Neuman household, and rather enjoyed it. There were several comely girls in evidence. Jake did not look a typical Northwest foreman and laborer.
Then Dorn disappeared around or under the big machine. "Lenore, I'll bet he tells us somethin' in a minute," said Anderson to her. "These new claptraps are beyond me. I'm no mechanic." "Dad, I don't like the looks of your harvest-hands," whispered Lenore. "Wal, this is a sample of the lot I hired. No society for you, my lass!" "I'm going to stay now," she replied.
"Wal, I reckon for what's just come off." "Don't let them go any farther.... Look at these fellows. Can't you tell the I.W.W.'s from the others?" "No, I can't unless I count all the new harvest-hands I.W.W.'s." "Every one you don't know here is in with that gang," declared Dorn, and he waved a swift hand at the groups.
Before they got to the little crowd Lenore both heard and saw her father. He was in a rage and not aware of her presence. Jake and Bill, the cowboys, hovered over him. Anderson strode to and fro, from one side of the harvester to the other. Lenore did not recognize any of the harvest-hands, and even the driver was new to her. They were not a typical Western harvest crew, that was certain.
Jake had been commissioned to acquaint Neuman with the fact that recent developments demanded his immediate presence at "Many Waters." The cowboy really had a liking for the job, though he pretended not to. Neuman had not yet begun harvesting. There were signs to Jake's experienced eye that the harvest-hands were expected this very day.
"Where'd that monkey-wrench come from?" asked the foreman, aghast. "It's not ours. I don't buy that kind." Anderson made a slight, significant motion to the cowboys. They lined up beside him, and, like him, they looked dangerous. "Come here, Kurt," he said, and then, putting Lenore before him, he moved a few steps aside, out of earshot of the shifty-footed harvest-hands.
The idea we Anarchists have of the rich is of highwaymen, standing in the street and robbing every one that passes. Or take "Big Bill" Haywood, chief of the I. W. W. Hear what he has to say in a pamphlet addressed to the harvest-hands he is seeking to organize: How much farther do you plutes expect to go with your grabbing? Do you want to be the only people left on earth?
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