"Mister Dorn, we want you to fire them. That's my business out here,"
replied the American.

"Who are you, anyway?"

"That's my business, too."

Kurt passed from hot to cold. He could not miss the antagonism of this
man, a bold and menacing attitude.

"My foreman says your name's Glidden," went on Kurt, cooler this time,
"and that you're talking I.W.W. as if you were one of its leaders; that
you don't want a job; that you've got a wad of money; that you coax,
then threaten; that you've intimidated three of our hands."

"Your Jerry's a marked man," said Glidden, shortly.

"You impudent scoundrel!" exclaimed Kurt. "Now you listen to this.
You're the first I.W.W. man I've met. You look and talk like an
American. But if you are American you're a traitor. We've a war to
fight! War with a powerful country! Germany! And you come spreading
discontent in the wheat-fields,... when wheat means life!... Get out of
here before I--"

"We'll mark you, too, Mister Dorn, and your wheat-fields," snapped
Glidden.

With one swift lunge Kurt knocked the man flat and then leaped to stand
over him, watching for a move to draw a weapon. The little foreigner
slunk back out of reach.