"No. But I believe so, or else the I.W.W. leaders took advantage of a critical time. I'm bound to say that now thousands of I.W.W. laborers are loyal to the United States, and that made me switch." "I'll deal with them the same way," responded Dorn, with fervor. Then Lenore interrupted their discussion, and, pleading that Dorn was quite worn out from excitement and exertion, she got her father to leave the room. * * * * * The following several days Lenore devoted to the happy and busy task of packing what she wanted to take to Dorn's home. She had set the date, but had reserved the pleasure of telling him. Anderson had agreed to her plan and decided to accompany them. "I'll take the girls," he said. "It'll be a fine ride for them. We'll stay in the village overnight an' come back home next day.... Lenore, it strikes me sudden-like, your leavin'.... What will become of me?" All at once he showed the ravages of pain and loss that the last year had added to his life of struggle. Lenore embraced him and felt her heart full. "Dad, I'm not leaving you," she protested. "He'll get well up there--find his balance sooner among those desert wheat-hills. We will divide our time between the two places. Remember, you can run up there any day. Your interests are there now. Dad, don't think of it as separation. Kurt has come into our family--and we're just going to be away some of the time." Thus she won back a smile to the worn face. "We've all got a weak spot," he said, musingly. "Mine is here--an' it's a fear of growin' old an' bein' left alone. That's selfish. But I've lived, an' I reckon I've no more to ask for." Lenore could not help being sad in the midst of her increasing happiness. Joy to some brought to others only gloom! Life was sunshine and storm--youth and age. This morning she found Kathleen entertaining Dorn. This was the second time the child had been permitted to see him, and the immense novelty had not yet worn off. Kathleen was a hero-worshiper. If she had been devoted to Dorn before his absence, she now manifested symptoms of complete idolatry. Lenore had forbidden her to question Dorn about anything in regard to the war. Kathleen never broke her promises, but it was plain that Dorn had read the mute, anguished wonder and flame in her eyes when they rested upon his empty sleeve, and evidently had told her things. Kathleen was white, wide-eyed, and beautiful then, with all a child's imagination stirred. "I've been telling Kathie how I lost my arm," explained Dorn. "I hate Germans! I hate war!" cried Kathleen, passionately. "My dear, hate them always," said Dorn. When Kathleen had gone Lenore asked Dorn if he thought it was right to tell the child always to hate Germans.