"We must stop the cattle, or split their stampede." "All right, Holmesy," agreed Tom ironically.

"I appoint you to do my full share in stopping a stampede of cattle." Reade's face had suddenly grown very grave as he now realized that the trees were not stopping the frenzied cattle.
Dick, who had been thinking, suddenly wheeled, making a break for the supplies.
"Get a box of matches, each one of you!" he shouted.

"Then sprint with me for that patch of sun-baked grass just north of us." "What's the idea ?" Dave asked, but Dick was already running fast.
"Get your matches and come on!" Dick called back over his shoulder.
As speedily as could be done the others followed suit.

Dick reached the sun-burned strip of grass, whose nearer edge was some two hundred yards north of camp.
"Hey! He's starting a forest fire!" gasped Dan Dalzell, as he caught sight of young Prescott bending over the dried, yellowish grass.
"Scatter, all along the strip!" shouted Prescott, rising as soon as he had ignited a clump of grass.

"Get this whole strip of burned grass blazing.