crops
ruined," he said.

This turned the scale, and from a discussion of the advisability of
frost warning, the question turned to the best way of letting people
know. It was decided that Bob should return to his wireless, get as many
of his connected operators in touch as possible and get them to warn
their districts. Fred, who had persuaded his father to install a 'phone,
was to get in touch with the few farmers in the district who had
telephones and ask them to spread the warning. Anton was to borrow his
father's buggy and drive to points not reached in any other way, and
Ross was to go on his pony. By this means, the county would be fairly
well covered. The boys were just separating, when Bob stopped.

"Jed Tighe!" he said.

"Oh, let the old skinflint go," said Fred, "there isn't any way of
reaching him, any way."

"That doesn't seem quite fair," said Ross, dubiously, "he's got more
fruit than anybody else."

"It isn't fair," said Bob.

"I've been wondering," said Anton, "if we oughtn't to notify Jed Tighe
somehow."

"We've got to," said Bob.

"And only get rowed at for our pains," declared Fred.

This was so likely that all the boys felt the truth of the remark and
there was a moment's silence.

"Play square," said Bob.

"Jed Tighe has never done anything to help the League," said Fred. "I
don't see why we should do anything to help him."

"Well," said Ross, "we can't take that stand. Any chap that needs help
ought to be warned. If you saw his house on fire, Fred, you wouldn't
hesitate to tell Jed Tighe, would you?"

"No," answered the editor doubtfully, "I wouldn't, but this seems
different, some way. We might be making fools of ourselves and he'd have
the laugh on us for ever."

"Better be laughed at for trying to help than blamed for not trying,"
repeated Bob.

This was unanswerable and to Ross was deputed the dubious pleasure of
notifying the hard old farmer. As the boys separated, Anton looked at
his watch.

"It's going to be all hours before you get home to your own place,
Ross," said Anton, "it would be a shame if your fruit ran a risk by your
being late. Your dad hasn't got a 'phone."

"That's easily fixed," said Ross.

He went to the door and whistled. Rex came bounding up. Ross went to the
table and scribbled on a piece of paper:

"Frost to-night! Light the pots!"

This he fastened securely to the Airedale's collar.

"Home! Rex!" he said.

The terrier looked up in his maste