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 slipping.  For one frenzied second, he feared that he had failed.  Young Strongheart that he was, he braced all his muscles for the supreme effort—–­and drew himself up to safer footing on the hay.

Then, like an eagle, he swooped down upon the children.  The little girl he snatched from her tiny brother’s clasp.

“Here!” called Sub-master Luce from the further side.

Brief as the time was Dick Prescott calculated the distance like lightning.  There was no time to call back to Mr. Lucen—–­nor need to do so.

Aiming with all the precision at his command, Dick threw the child from him.

His aim splendidly true, he had the joy of seeing the child land in Mr. Luce’s arms.

Without a moment’s loss of time Prescott now snatched up the shrieking boy.

“Ready!” shouted Dick, and a second little body was thrown through the air.

Again did John Luce do credit to his college baseball training, for, hurriedly placing the girl baby on the ground he put up his hands to receive the boy.

“Jump yourself, Prescott!” bawled the submaster hoarsely.

But Dick was already in the air.  With the flames shooting up and seeming fairly to lick his face, Dick had had no time to calculate his jump.

On the ground, some feet beyond the wagon, Prescott landed, sprawling on all fours.

He leaped up, however, his face twitching yet with a laugh on his lips.

Behind him the whole load of hay now flared up, crackling and hissing.

“Hurry back out of the heat!” yelled John Luce, leaping forward, seizing young Prescott and dragging him several yards away.

Dick turned in time to see the whole glowing mass cave in.

Had he arrived on the scene a few seconds later than he did both children would have perished miserably.

Now, from the house came a white-faced man, running as though some demon animated him.  Behind him came a woman even paler.

Toward father and mother ran the pair of little tots, wholly unmindful of their rescuers.

As for the older, match-burning boy, that youngster half scared to death, had dashed away into hiding to escape the wrath that he knew must soon seek him.