Hoss drove the wagon to town and Adam sat beside him, his feet propped on the buckboard and leaning over, his elbows rested on his knees. The two brothers had ridden in silence; Adam was deep in thought.

"What're you thinkin' 'bout?" Hoss asked as he glanced at Adam.

Adam suddenly realized that he had been silent. "Oh, I've been thinking about the pattern of the barn burnings. Whoever is doing it is moving from west to east."

"Yeah," Hoss said, considering. "It's a zig-zag but iffen they keep goin' in that direction, means the Rocking G is next." Hoss didn't say more about the Rocking G; it was a touchy subject as far as Adam was concerned.

"Yeah. And then the Bar T. These burnings might be warnings-or threats. That's why no stock or people have been killed outright. At least not yet."

"But don't you think there'd be a note askin' for money or whatever it is they want?"

Adam sighed in frustration. "That's what has me puzzled. There seems to be no reason behind it."

"Maybe it's just pure cussedness and nothin' else. You ever think of that?"

"I considered it but I see no way to stop whoever until we can figure out why." Adam sighed and sat back. "It's too late for us, but maybe the others still unharmed can prevent fires by sitting watch. I think we should too. A rebuilt barn might be too much temptation for a firebug—all that fresh wood straight from the mill. That smell—that aromatic smell of pine—too much for someone with an itchy finger and a matchstick to refuse. Like a whore's French perfume."

Hoss chuckled at Adam's comparison but quickly became serious again. "But I don't understand," Hoss went on, "why someone wants to destroy somethin'."

"Haven't you ever wanted to break something because you couldn't refuse it?"

Hoss looked at Adam who reclined against the back on the seat. "No…I ain't never wanted to break nothin' out of spite. You sayin' you have?"

"Yeah. Remember that fine china tea set Marie had? That one she brought with her from New Orleans?"

"Yeah. I 'member—it had those blue roses on it and I 'member not wantin' to touch it 'cause it was 'bone' china and when I asked Pa, he said it had bone ash in it and I wondered about the people burned to ash just to make dishes." Adam chuckled and glanced at Hoss. "I 'member the handle of the teapot broke and Marie cried—said it had come all the way from France a hunnerd years ago or somethin' like that." Hoss narrowed his eyes at Adam. "You sayin' you did that?"

"I did."

"But why'd you do that?"

"Because I hated Marie and her ordering me around. She wasn't my mother and, well, I don't want to go into that, but she told me to unpack the crate and put the dishes on the table and when I lifted the teapot out of the excelsior, well the handle was so fine, so delicate that I just snapped it off. It was…satisfying."

"Well, I'll be. Marie thought it broke in shipping."

"Yeah. And I just kept silent. I broke it out of spite, out of hatefulness. I understand that feeling."

The brothers rode in silence for a minute and then Hoss turned again to Adam. "How long you think we gotta stand watch?"

Adam shrugged. "I don't know. I s'pose until we catch whoever is doing it. Hopefully, everyone will show up tonight and maybe we'll get more details from Tucker and Brandt—maybe there's a clue in the three burnings. Maybe not."

Adam had looked around the barn before he and Hoss had left. A tin of coal oil was on the ground-empty. Whoever set the fire had doused the back corner of the barn with the oil and lit the wood. Once the flames hit the hay it turned into a conflagration, the flames spreading rapidly, taking on a life of their own. Adam knew they were lucky to have the hands around to help kill the flames or they would have never been able to contain the fire so much as put it out. They would have lost the whole barn and the stock while having to stand back and helplessly watch the edifice burn to cinders. Not only that, the fire could have leapt to the carriage shed and the smithy and they would have lost even more.

Adam thought about Joe and the decision to send him to all the ranchers asking them to meet at the Ponderosa that evening to discuss the situation and Adam wondered if she would be there. Part of him hoped she would be but the greater part hoped she'd send someone else in her place, maybe the foreman. But the Widow Gregson might very well show up, the only woman in a group of men. But she was the only woman Adam really saw anyway, even in a group of other women. In his opinion, all the rest of womankind paled by comparison to her.