Lenore bore the hot wind and the fine, choking dust without covering her face. She wanted to see all the hills and valleys of this desert of wheat. Her heart beat a little faster as, looking across that waste on waste of heroic labor, she realized she was nearing the end of a ride that might be momentous for her. The very aspect of that wide, treeless expanse, with all its overwhelming meaning, seemed to make her a stronger and more thoughtful girl. If those endless wheat-fields were indeed ruined, what a pity, what a tragedy! Not only would young Dorn be ruined, but perhaps many other toiling farmers. Somehow Lenore felt no hopeless certainty of ruin for the young man in whom she was interested. "There, on that slope!" spoke up Anderson, pointing to a field which was yellow in contrast to the surrounding gray field. "There's a half-section of fair wheat." But such tinges of harvest gold were not many in half a dozen miles of dreary hills. Where were the beautiful shadows in the wheat? wondered Lenore. Not a breath of wind appeared to stir across those fields. As the car neared the top of a hill the road curved into another, and Lenore saw a dusty flash of another car passing on ahead. Suddenly Jake leaned forward. "Boss, I seen somethin' throwed out of thet car--into the wheat," he said. "What?--Mebbe it was a bottle," replied Anderson, peering ahead. "Nope. Sure wasn't thet.... There! I seen it again. Watch, boss!" Lenore strained her eyes and felt a stir of her pulses. Jake's voice was perturbing. Was it strange that Nash slowed up a little where there was no apparent need? Then Lenore saw a hand flash out of the side of the car ahead and throw a small, glinting object into the wheat. "There! Seen it again," said Jake. "I saw!... Jake, mark that spot.... Nash, slow down," yelled Anderson. Lenore gathered from the look of her father and the cowboy that something was amiss, but she could not guess what it might be. Nash bent sullenly at his task of driving. "I reckon about here," said Jake, waving his hand. "Stop her," ordered Anderson, and as the car came to a halt he got out, followed by Jake. "Wal, I marked it by thet rock," declared the cowboy. "So did I," responded Anderson. "Let's get over the fence an' find what it was they threw in there." Jake rested a lean hand on a post and vaulted the fence. But Anderson had to climb laboriously and painfully over the barbed-wire obstruction. Lenore marveled at his silence and his persistence. Anderson hated wire fences. Presently he got over, and then he divided his time between searching in the wheat and peering after the strange car that was drawing far away. Lenore saw Jake pick up something and scrutinize it. "I'll be dog-goned!" he muttered. Then he approached Anderson. "What is thet?" "Jake, you can lambaste me if I ever saw the likes," replied Anderson. "But it looks bad. Let's rustle after that car."