good old Dick Prescott!"

"After we pass that vote," proposed Hazelton, "we'd better make
all haste to get out of these woods before the owner of this
stretch of forest comes along to nab the fellows who set his timber
afire."

"Do you see any trees ablaze?" Dick demanded.

Now, for the first time, two or three of the fellows began to
realize the value of Dick's idea. The sun-burned grass, some
three acres in extent, was a clearing devoid of trees. Here
the July heat had baked the turf. On all sides, under the trees
beyond, the grass was still green. Any boy who has ever been
in the country knows that green grass won't burn. Hence the blaze
was limited to a small area. A few trees whose trunks were near
the edge of the clearing were smoking slightly, but no damage
was done to the timber. There was really no work to be done in
extinguishing this fire, which, furious while it lasted, was now
dying out.

"Let's get back and see how our camp fared," proposed Hazelton.

"We don't have to," Dick replied. "We saw the directions taken
by the cattle, and they didn't go anywhere near our camp. Let's
wait, and, as soon as the ground is cool enough, let's get out
to the injured cows, and see if we can help any of them."

Hardly had Dick spoken when one of the cows, right at the edge
of the blackened clearing, rose clumsily, then moved slowly northward.
Presently another cow followed suit.

"We can get over the ground now," said Dick. "Let's go out and
look at these animals."

They counted eight dead cows, their unwieldy carcasses lying motionless
on the burned grass.

"Probably killed by the hot air that they drew into their lungs,"
commented Tom Reade.

"We killed the poor beasts," said Danny Grin, with a catch in
his breath.

"Perhaps we did," Dick admitted. "But we had to do something.
Anyhow, we broke the force of the stampede, and, if that hadn't
been checked, a still greater number of cows would have been killed.
They would have fallen, exhausted, and then they would have been
trampled on and killed by the plunging cattle behind them."

"That's true enough," nodded Tom. "Even if we did kill a few,
I guess we're more entitled to praise than reproach."

Two more cows presently got up and limped away, but there were
four others still alive, yet too badly hurt to attend to themselves.

Nor could the high school boys help, further than by carrying
buckets of water to the suffering animals. Dick &