called to the two babies above that he would "burn 'em up."

Not all of this did Dick Prescott know, but his glance through
the car window had shown him the boy on the ground just as that
tiny fellow had lighted another match, shouting tantalizingly
to the two children on top of the load of hay.

Just as he called up to them the mischievous youngster tripped
slightly. Throwing out his right hand to save himself the boy
accidentally touched the bottom of the load at one side with 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