He stirred himself to action. With the rake he heaped together the
brittle filaments of burned hay.

"It can't spread any now," he decided finally. "It's dying down to
nothing. Now then, what's next?"

Andy took a far look in all directions. The fire had burned so rapidly
and clear in the crisp light air that it did not seem to have been
observed in the village.

Andy wondered, however, that some of the Dales had not discovered it. He
stood gazing thoughtfully at the Dale homestead about a
quarter-of-a-mile away.

A great many impulsive, disheartening and also reckless projects ran
through his mind.

"It's an awful fix to be in," ruminated Andy with a sigh of real
distress. "If ever it was up to a fellow to cut stick and run, it's up
to Andy Wildwood at this minute. Expelled from school, burning up a
man's haystack and then--Aunt Lavinia! The rest is bad enough, but when
I think of her it sends the cold chills all over me. Ugh!"

Andy looked for Dobbin. It was some time before he discovered the
innocent partner of his recent disastrous escapade.

The old horse was half-a-mile distant, placidly making along the roadway
for home.

Andy rubbed his head in distress and uncertainty. He had a hard problem