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Updated: June 17, 2025
Lenore, will they ever let me?" Their father's abrupt entrance interrupted the conversation. He was pale, forceful, as when issues were at stake but were undecided. "Kathie, go out," he said. Lenore rose to face him. "My girl Dorn's come to an' he's asked for you. I was for lettin' him see you. But Lowell an' Jarvis say no not yet.... Now he might die any minute. Seems to me he ought to see you.
Spots and dots, shiny, illusive, bobbed along that break, behind the mounds, beyond the farther banks. A yell as from one lusty throat ran along the line of which Dorn's squad held the center. Dorn's sight had a piercing intensity. All was hard under his grip his rifle, the boards and bags against which he leaned. Corporal Owens rose beside him, bareheaded, to call low and fiercely to his men.
A look of intense surprise flashed across Van Dorn's face, but he grasped the situation at once, and silently giving the return signal, he turned and walked in the opposite direction with the most nonchalant manner imaginable, and Houston knew that his secret was safe. A few moments afterward, "Mr.
Then came a flashing uplift of soul, a great and beautiful exaltation. Lenore felt that she had been gifted with incalculable power. She had pierced Dorn's fatalistic consciousness with the truth and glory of possible life, as opposed to the dark and evil morbidity of war.
This uncommon yet by no means rare power was in Victor Dorn's voice, and explained his extraordinary influence over people of all kinds and classes; it wove a spell that enmeshed even those who disliked him for his detestable views. Davy Hull, listening to Victor's simple recital of his prospective career, was so wrought upon that he sat staring before him in a kind of terror.
"No one comin'. An' there'll be hell to pay out there. You go on to the house with Miss Lenore.... Will you?" "Yes," replied Dorn. "Rustle along, then.... An' you, Miss Lenore, don't you worry none about us." Lenore nodded and, holding Dorn's arm closely, she walked as fast as she could down the lane. "I I kept your coat," she said, "though I never thought of it till just now."
"That government has protected you for fifty years." Old Dorn growled into his beard. His huge ox-eyes rolled. Kurt realized then finally how implacable and hopeless he was how utterly German. Then Kurt importuned him to return the eighty thousand dollars to the bank until he was sure the wheat was harvested and hauled to the railroad. "My wheat won't burn," was old Dorn's stubborn reply.
Presently he said: "What did that fool Hull boy say about Dorn to you?" "He doesn't like him," replied Jane. "He seems to be jealous of him and opposed to his political views." "Dorn's views ain't politics. They're theft and murder and highfalutin nonsense," said Hastings, not unconscious of his feeble anti-climax.
Jerry beat hard, accompanying his blows with profane speech plainly indicating that he felt he was at work on the I.W.W. In short order they put out this little fire. Returning to his post, Kurt watched until he was called to lend a hand down in the stunted wheat. Fire had crossed and had gotten a hold on Dorn's lower field. Here the wheat was blasted and so burned all the more fiercely.
"Won't you sit?" said he. "No, thanks," replied she. "Then you'll compel me to stand. And I'm horribly tired." She seated herself upon the log. He made himself comfortable at its other end. "I've just come from Victor Dorn's house," said she. "There was a consultation among the leaders of our party.
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