"Not as I heerd. Why, one of them had a wad of bills thet would choke a cow. He did most of the talkin'. The little feller with the beady eyes an' the pock-marks, he didn't say much. He's Austrian an' not long in this country. The big stiff--Glidden, he called himself--must be some shucks in thet I.W.W. He looked an' talked oily at first--very persuadin'; but when I says I wasn't goin' to join no union he got sassy an' bossy. They made me sore, so I told him to go to hell. Then he said the I.W.W. would run the whole Northwest this summer--wheat-fields, lumberin', fruit-harvestin', railroadin'--the whole kaboodle, an' thet any workman who wouldn't join would git his, all right." "Well, Jerry, what do you think about this organization?" queried Kurt, anxiously. "Not much. It ain't a square deal. I ain't got no belief in them. What I heerd of their threatenin' methods is like the way this Glidden talks. If I owned a farm I'd drive such fellers off with a whip. There's goin' to be bad doin's if they come driftin' strong into the Bend." "Jerry, are you satisfied with your job?" "Sure. I won't join the I.W.W. An' I'll talk ag'in' it. I reckon a few of us will hev to do all the harvestin'. An', considerin' thet, I'll take a dollar a day more on my wages." "If father does not agree to that, I will," said Kurt. "Now how about the other men?" "Wal, they all air leanin' toward promises of little work an' lots of pay," answered Jerry, with a laugh. "Morgan's on the fence about joinin'. But Andrew agreed. He's Dutch an' pig-headed. Jansen's only too glad to make trouble fer his boss. They're goin' to lay off the rest of to-day an' talk with Glidden. They all agreed to meet down by the culvert. An' thet's what they was arguin' with me fer--wanted me to come." "Where's this man Glidden?" demanded Kurt. "I'll give him a piece of my mind." "I reckon he's hangin' round the farm--out of sight somewhere." "All right, Jerry. Now you go back to work. You'll never lose anything by sticking to us, I promise you that. Keep your eyes and ears open." Kurt strode back to the house, and his entrance to the kitchen evidently interrupted a colloquy of some kind. The hired men were still at table. They looked down at their plates and said nothing. Kurt left the sitting-room door open, and, turning, he asked Martha if his father had been to dinner. "No, an' what's more, when I called he takes to roarin' like a mad bull," replied the woman.