round the supper table-Mr. and Mrs. Dickerson, Pete, and the children,
little and big. It was a cheerful family group, after all. Rough and
uncouth as the farmer was, Dickerson likely had his feelings like other
people. Instead of bursting right in at the door as had been Hiram's
intention, and accusing Pete to his face, the indignant young fellow
hesitated.

He hadn't any sympathy for Pete, not the slightest. If he gave him--or
the elder Dickerson--a chance to clear up matters by making good to Mrs.
Atterson for what she had lost, Hiram Strong decided that he was being
very lenient indeed.

He stepped quietly onto the porch and rapped on the door. Then he backed
off and waited for some response from within.

"Hullo, Mr. Strong!" exclaimed the farmer, coming himself to the "door.
Why! is that your stack burning?"

"Yes, sir," said Hiram, quietly.

"Another one!"

"That is the second," admitted Hiram. "But I don't propose that another
shall be set afire in just the same way."

Sam Dickerson stepped suddenly down to the young farmer's level, and
asked:

"What do you mean by that? Do you know how it got afire?"

Hiram held out the sling-shot in the light of his lantern.

"A rag, saturated with gasoline, was wrapped around a pebble, then set
afire, and stone and blazing rag were shot from our line fence into the
fodderstack.

"I found the footprints of the incendiary on New Year's morning at the
same place. And I'll wager a good deal that your son Pete's boots will
fit the footprints over there at the line now!"

Sam Dickerson's face had turned exceedingly red, and then paled. But he
spoke very quietly.

"What are you going to do with him, Mr. Strong?" he asked. "It will be
five years for him at least, if you take it to court--and maybe longer."

"I don't believe, Mr. Dickerson, that you have upheld Pete in all the
mean tricks he has played on me."

"Indeed I haven't! And since I got a look at myself--back there when the
wife was hurt----"

Sam Dickerson's voice broke and he turned away for a moment so that his
visitor should not see his face.

"Well!" he continued. "You've got Pete right this time--no doubt of
that. I dunno what makes him such a mean whelp. I'll lambaste him good
for this, now I tell you. But the stacks----"

"Make him pay for them out of his own money. Mrs. Atterson ought not to
lose the stacks," said Hiram, slowly.

"Oh, he'll do that, anyway, you can bet!" exclaimed Dickerson, w