the
lighted match.

At this fateful instant it was out of the question to think of
putting out the flame that leaped from wisp to wisp of the dried
grass.

"Jump!" shouted the young match-burner, but the children above
did not hear, or else did not realize their plight.

"Fire! Fire!" screamed the little incendiary, as he ran panic-stricken
toward the farm house.

And now Dick was racing as he had never done before, even over
the football gridiron. On his speed depended the lives of the
two children.

CHAPTER II

THE DEED OF A HERO

At the moment of Dick's leap from the car, Sub-master Luce did
not know what had happened. He realized in an instant what was
the matter, and made frantic efforts to reach the scene at the
same moment with Prescott.

Dick, however, kept the lead.

As the flames shot up through the hay the children on top of the
hay began to gather a sense of their awful danger.

Seconds---fractions of seconds---were of priceless value now---if
lives were to be saved.

There was still time for the two children to jump over the side
on which the flames had not yet appeared, but they were too badly
frightened to know what to do.

If they should jump where the flames were leaping up they were
almost certain to have their clothing catch fire, with fatal burns
as a result.

Dick felt that he did not have time to shout to the frightened
children. Besides, his commands would likely serve only to confuse
them the more.

Terror-stricken the two little ones clasped each other and stood
screaming with fear on the top of the load.

Dick's quick eye had taken in the only chance in this terrifying
situation.

Straight for the apple tree he bounded, his first leap carrying
him into a crotch in the tree a few feet above the ground.

Out he sprang, now, on a limb of the tree that most nearly overhung
the load of hay.

That limb sagged under him---creaked---threatened to snap off
under his weight.

But young Prescott, wholly heedless of his own safety, and with
only one object in mind, scrambled out on the creaking limb as
far as he could; then, with a prayer on his lips, he made a wild,
strenuous leap.

Sub-master Luce turned white as he saw what Dick had attempted
to do. Had he been made of more timorous stuff the high school
teacher would have closed his eyes for that awful instant.

As it was, John Luce saw young Prescott land at the rear end of
the load.

Dick felt himself