In half an hour, during which time Kurt was enabled to breakfast, the car was ready.  It was a large car, rather ancient and the worse for wear, but its owner assured Kurt that it would take him where he wanted to go and he need not be afraid to drive fast.  With that inspiring knowledge Kurt started off.

Before ten o’clock Kurt reached Kilo, far across the Copper River, with the Blue Mountains in sight, and from there less confusing directions to follow.  He had been lucky.  He had passed the wreck of the freight-train upon which he had ridden from Adrian; his car had been surrounded by rough men, and only quick wits saved him at least delay; he had been hailed by more than one group of tramping I.W.W. men; and he had passed camps and freight-yards where idlers were congregated.  And lastly, he had seen, far across the valley, a pall of smoke from forest fire.

He was going to reach “Many Waters” in time to warn Anderson, and that fact gave him strange exultation.  When it was assured and he had the eighty thousand dollars deposited in a bank he could feel that his gray, gloomy future would have several happy memories.  How would Lenore Anderson feel toward a man who had saved her father?  The thought was too rich, too sweet for Kurt to dwell upon.

Before noon Kurt began to climb gradually up off the wonderfully fertile bottom-lands where the endless orchards and boundless gardens delighted his eye, and the towns grew fewer and farther between.  Kurt halted at Huntington for water, and when he was about ready to start a man rushed out of a store, glanced hurriedly up and down the almost deserted street, and, espying Kurt, ran to him.

“Message over ’phone!  I.W.W.!  Hell to pay!” he cried, excitedly.

“What’s up?  Tell me the message,” replied Kurt, calmly.

“It just come—­from Vale.  Anderson, the big rancher!  He ’phoned to send men out on all roads—­to stop his car!  His daughter’s in it!  She’s been made off with!  I.W.W.’s!”

Kurt’s heart leaped.  The bursting blood burned through him and receded to leave him cold, tingling.  Anything might happen to him this day!  He reached inside the seat to grasp the disjointed rifle, and three swift movements seemed to serve to unwrap it and put the pieces together.

“What else did Anderson say?” he asked, sharply.

“That likely the car would head for the hills, where the I.W.W.’s are camped.”

“What road from here leads that way?”

“Take the left-hand road at the end of town,” replied the man, more calmly.  “Ten miles down you’ll come to a fork.  There’s where the I.W.W.’s will turn off to go up into the foot-hills.  Anderson just ’phoned.  You can head off his car if it’s on the hill road.  But you’ll have to drive....  Do you know Anderson’s car?  Don’t you want men with you?”

“No time!” called Kurt, as he leaped into the seat and jammed on the power.

“I’ll send cars all over,” shouted the man, as Kurt whirred away.