"It was in perfect workin' order," declared the foreman. "I don't know why it broke down."
"That's the fourth machine in two days. No accident, I tell you," shouted Anderson. Then he espied Dorn and waved a grimy hand. "Come here, Dorn," he called, and stepped out of the group of dusty men. "Somethin' wrong here. This new harvester's broke down. It's a McCormack an' new to us. But it has worked great an' I jest believe it's been tampered with… Do you know these McCormack harvesters?"
"Yes. They're reliable," replied Dorn.
"Ah-huh! Wal, get your coat off an' see what's been done to this one."
Dorn took off his coat and was about to throw it down, when Lenore held out her hand for it.
"Unhitch the horses," said Dorn.
Anderson gave this order, which was complied with. Then Dorn disappeared around or under the big machine.
"Lenore, I'll bet he tells us somethin' in a minute," said Anderson to her. "These new claptraps are beyond me. I'm no mechanic."
"Dad, I don't like the looks of your harvest-hands," whispered Lenore.
"Wal, this is a sample of the lot I hired. No society for you, my lass!"