But Hiram was not convinced. He began to see flaws in this theory. "How did Banks set it off? How could anybody have set it off?" he queried. "With a match," said Orrin, grinning faintly in the lantern light. "That's all right," Hiram said. "But we saw Banks coming down this way when the rain was almost over. This stack was thoroughly wet on the outside by that time." "It was set off somehow inside," interposed Battick. "When I looked out of my door after the big wind the flames were shooting right out of the peak of the stack. It had been smouldering all that time deep down in the heart of the pile." "Yes. Well, like the famous query about the old woodchuck's hole: How did the fire get there?" "What do you mean?" asked Battick and Orrin in unison. "If the fire had been set before the wind, it would have spread much sooner. Doesn't that stand to reason?" "Uh-huh!" agreed Orrin, although Battick looked doubtful. "Of course! And if it was set on fire after the wind stopped, how did the incendiary get his fire into the heart of the wet stack?" "You're just asking questions," snarled Battick. "Why don't you say something that is worth while?" "I will say something," replied Hiram. "I'll say this much: Perhaps your stack was not burned by an enemy, Mr. Battick. It might even be your own fault." "What do you mean?" snapped the other with a sour look. "You are a smoker," said Hiram; "and it might be that you dropped a match when you were stacking this wheat. It's been done more than once." "What do you mean?" cried Battick, "That it has taken all this time for a match to ignite? Do you mean by spontaneous combustion?" he scoffed. "Not at all. I mean that it may have been ignited by the sharp little teeth of a field mouse. Such things have happened." "That's right!" exclaimed Orrin. "I believe a fodder stack where I worked once was burned in that way." "Mice and rats have been my bane since I came to this old Pringle place to live," admitted Yancey Battick slowly. "But I think your idea is far-fetched, Mr. Strong." "At least, it is as good an idea as that Adam Banks set the stack off. We ought to find proof before we accuse the fellow." "I don't mean to accuse him. What good would that do?" demanded Battick in disgust. "The harm is done. I've lost my wheat--" "But you have all that in the house for fall seed," Hiram said. "Yes," growled Battick. "And I mean to guard that with my gun. I mean to warn everybody that I'll put something besides rock-salt in my shotgun after this." "Whew!" ejaculated Orrin Post, "you sound very savage." "I do not blame you for feeling as you do, Mr. Battick," said Hiram cautiously, "even although I think you have jumped to a wrong conclusion. But I am sure trying to shoot your neighbors, good or bad, will not help you. I have an idea I'd like to talk over with you and will do so the next time I am down this way. But it is time we were all in bed now."