ing every one with fruit trees to start a smudge going. And,
Mr. Lovell, can I use the wireless for a minute?"

"Of course. Much obliged for the tip, my boy, I'll get right up and
attend to things. Of course, I don't know as it'll do any good, if it's
a goin' to freeze; to my way o' thinkin' it's goin' to freeze and
nothin'll stop it. But no one can say that Tim Lovell was too lazy to
try an' save his crops."

Ross tied his pony and hurried up to his friend's room. In a minute the
wireless was buzzing and presently, back came the answering buzz.
Georgie sat up in bed and listened.

"I'll go with you to Jed Tighe's," he said, "that is, if Father'll let
me."

"Try it," said Ross, "if he will, you can jump on the pony behind me."

Permission was readily granted, for the farmer was grateful for his own
warning, and in less than ten minutes' time the two boys were galloping
back along the frosty road to the old skinflint's place.

"Aren't you going to tell him about the frost?" asked George, as Ross
turned his pony off on the windward side of the orchard.

"I have told him," answered Ross, and he related the story of the
meeting, gathering together dry twigs and branches as he talked.

George waxed indignant.

"I'd let him go to grass!" he said.

"That's what I thought at first," Ross replied, "but if you saw a chap
drowning, you'd jump in and save him without waiting to find out whether
he was delirious and didn't want to be saved."

"Of course," George answered, "any fellow would jump in."

"That's what we're doing, we're jumping in."

Minutes were precious and the two boys worked with all their might,
gathering piles of twigs and dry sticks. There was a heap of straw and
stable manure a field or two away, and Ross rolled several wheelbarrow
loads of it across the fields. After two hours' work, the boys had a row
of little piles of fuel, covering one quarter of the length of the
orchard.

"You light the first one, Georgie," said Ross, wanting to give the
younger lad the honor, for he had worked pluckily and hard.

The lad went down and touched a match to the first pile. It blazed up
merrily, and just as the smoke began to rise, the wheels of a buggy were
heard along the road. A moment later Bob jumped out.

"Hello!" was all he said.

He cast one glance at the piles and commenced to work with a will.
Presently a shout was heard and Ralph, the photographer, appeared on his
wheel.

"There's a bunch more