"It's a heap of rubbish burning in one of the fields," said Raymond.
"There's too much smoke for that," said Jack. "It may be a barn or a house. Wait a moment; I'll run up and see. I shan't be more than five or six minutes." He started off, jumping and scrambling up the path; but almost immediately on reaching the summit he turned and came racing down again.
"What a reckless beggar he is;" said Valentine. "He'll break his neck some day. Well, what is it?"
Jack took a flying jump from the path on to the shingle.
"The rick!" he cried—"the one we were sitting under—it's all in a blaze!"
The boys and girls stood staring at one another with a horrified look on their faces.
"You must have done it with your matches, Raymond," said Helen.
"I didn't," returned the other. "It's the sun. Come on into the boat."
"You must have dropped your cigarette end," said Valentine. "We ought to find the owner of the hay and say who we are."
"You fool! I tell you it wasn't me," returned the other passionately. "Ricks often catch fire of their own accord. I'm not going to be made pay for what isn't my fault."