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 & Co. had no