I waited for him, raised my hand when he neared and called out for him to stop. Then I asked him, straight out, how he had known there was a note tied to the rock chucked through Hannah's window. It took him aback; he was more mean than bright. But he covered up by saying, "I heard somebody say it." "Who?" "I don't recall." "Where?" "On Main. Somebody on Main this morning." "Well, hear this," I said. "If I find out it was you wrote that note and threw that rock, I'll not only put you in jail, I'll chew on you like a rabid dog. And the same goes if there are any other incidents involving Miss Dalton." "Can't hold me responsible for what somebody else does," he said sullenly. "No? Well, if you hear somebody else making plans along those lines, you had better step right in and put a stop to it. Because you're the one I'll be coming after if you don't." I left him to stew in his own juices and walked back into town fast and hard, to take the edge off my anger. A detail of nearly a dozen men and boys, half a dozen wagons, and a couple of sling-harnessed draft horses were laboring under Bert Lawless's supervision to clear away the wreckage of the three burned-out buildings.
