believe that he is dying, though his mind may be wandering. He
isn't injured--at least not outwardly. Just temporarily overcome
by smoke is what it looks like to me. But of course I haven't
made a thorough examination."

"Hadn't we better get him into the house, Doctor?" asked Mr.
Nestor, who stood with Tom, Ned and a group of men and boys about
the inert form of the man lying on the grass. The rescued one was
again seemingly unconscious.

"The best medicine he can have is fresh air, the doctor
replied. "He's better off out here than in the house. Though if
he doesn't revive presently I will send him to the hospital."

The man did not appear to be so badly off but what he could
hear, and at these words he opened his eyes again.

"I don't want to go to the hospital," he murmured. "I'll be all
right presently, and can go home, though--Oh, well, what's the
use?" he asked wearily, as though he had given up some fight.
"I've lost everything."

"Well, you've got a deal of life left in you yet; and that's
more than you could say of some who have come out of smaller
fires than this," said one of the firemen who, with Tom, had
carried the man out of the shed. "Come on, we'd better be getting
back," he said to his companion. "The worst of it is over, but
there'll be plenty to do yet."

"You said it!" commented the other grimly.