r's face to make sure that it was an
order, and not a game, and evidently being satisfied, started down the
road at a long sweeping trot. About a hundred yards away he stopped and
turned round to look. Ross was expecting this, so raised his arm and
pointed. Quite satisfied, Rex swung round to the road again and galloped
out of sight.

The boys separated at once, Bob to his wireless outfit, Fred to his
'phone. Anton, however, did not get in the buggy, as arranged. Instead,
his father, knowing that the lad was frail, packed him off to bed and
drove in the buggy himself, warning all his neighbors. Ross, on his
little pony, riding like another Paul Revere, covered many miles. It was
well on towards midnight when he reached Jed Tighe's house. The dogs
broke out into a furious barking, and, wakened by their tumult, the old
farmer with his thin scraggly beard, came to the door.

"What do you want, coming to my house at this hour of the night?" he
began, not recognizing his visitor.

"It's me, Ross Planford," the boy answered. "I came to tell you that
it's going to freeze tonight."

"That's a nice reason for getting a man out of his bed! Besides, it
ain't so. There's never been a frost in this county later'n April 3."
He snapped his fingers at the boy. "That's how much you know about it."

Ross found it hard to keep down his temper at this discourtesy.

"It's going to freeze, just the same," he retorted.

"Well, let it freeze, and you, too."

The old farmer began to close the door.

"But your fruit'll all be frosted!"

"Save it yourself, then," snapped Jed Tighe and slammed the door.

Ross dug his heels into his pony and started for home. The ride had
taken him six miles out of his way and he was anxious to get home to
make sure Rex had delivered his message. Still, as he rode, his pony's
hoofs seemed to beat out the message:

"Save it yourself, then!"

Why should he?

Again--

Why shouldn't he?

The gallop came down to a trot and then to a walk, as Ross brooded over
what he should do. As it chanced, his path lay near one of the younger
members of the League, who had bought a small wireless outfit, similar
to that of Anton's. Ross reined in.

As at Jed Tighe's, the hounds announced his arrival and the farmer poked
his head out of the window. He recognized the boy at once.

"What's up, Ross?" he asked. "Anything wrong?"

"There's a killing freeze coming tonight, Mr. Lovell," the boy answered.
"We're warn