WELL, NO MATTER. MR. Grotton would have to excuse his trespass. He opened the gate, led Plum through it, closed the gate. He mounted and rode forward, still north, toward the small Pangborn place and after the Pangborns the biggest farm in the county—old Wallace Elverton’s place. The fields here, as everywhere in the county, lay fallow. Seemed as if the government had so much grain stored up they’d be able to get along without crops for years more.
He looked around. Somehow, the country bothered him. He wasn’t sure why, but ... everything was wrong.
His head weighed an agonized ton. He put it down again. Plum went sedately forward. After a while she stopped. Harry looked up. Another fence. And what a fence! About ten feet of heavy steel mesh, topped by three feet of barbed-wire—five sepa
