been dammed up within. Something had to break. I've been unhappy for a
long time."

"I saw that. What about?" she replied.

"The war, and what it's done to father. We're estranged. I hate
everything German. I loved the farm. My chance in life is gone. The
wheat debt--the worry about the I.W.W.--and that's not all."

Again she put a gentle hand on his sleeve and left it there for a
moment. The touch thrilled all through Kurt.

"I'm sorry. Your position is sad. But maybe it is not utterly hopeless.
You--you'll come back after the war."

"I don't know that I want to come back," he said. "For then--it'd be
just as bad--worse.... Miss Anderson, it won't hurt to tell you the
truth.... A year ago--that first time I saw you--I fell in love with
you. I think--when I'm away--over in France--I'd like to feel that you
know. It can't hurt you. And it'll be sweet to me.... I fought against
the--the madness. But fate was against me.... I saw you again.... And it
was all over with me!"

He paused, catching his breath. She was perfectly quiet. He looked on
down the winding road. There were dust-clouds in the distance.

"I'm afraid I grew bitter and moody," he went on. "But the last
forty-eight hours have changed me forever... I found that my poor old
dad had been won over by these unscrupulous German agents of the I.W.W.
But I saved his name.... I've got the money he took for the wheat we may
never harvest. But if we do harvest I can pay all our debt.... Then I
learned of a plot to ruin your father--to kill him!... I was on my way
to 'Many Waters.' I can warn him.... Last of all I have saved you."

The little hand dropped away from his coat sleeve. A soft,
half-smothered cry escaped her. It seemed to him she was about to weep
in her exceeding pity.

"Miss Anderson, I--I'd rather not have--you pity me."

"Mr. Dorn, I certainly don't pity you," she replied, with an unexpected,
strange tone. It was full. It seemed to ring in his ears.

"I know there never was and never could be any hope for me. I--I--"

"Oh, you know that!" murmured the soft, strange voice.

But Kurt could not trust his ears and he had to make haste to terminate
the confession into which his folly and emotion had betrayed him. He
scarcely heard her words.

"Yes.... I told you why I wanted you to know.... And now forget
that--and when I'm gone--if you think of me ever, let it be about how
much better it made me--to have all this good luck--to help your fathe