But Randall clutched him frantically by the arm, and pointed across the plains.  “See, see; there it is!” he cried.  “It’s coming this way!  It will burn me alive!  Ob, save me!  Save me!”

John now realised the helplessness of the situation.  It was necessary for him to hurry to the island, and yet he could not leave this demented man alone on the plains.  The more he talked and reasoned, the more violent Randall became, begging most piteously to be saved.  It seemed strange to John that this helpless being lying there could ever have been the Harry Randall of whom he had beard so much, and who but a short time before had cursed him so bitterly.  Of what avail now were his power, wealth and wrath?

As John stood and wondered what to do, feeling keenly his own impotence, a shout to the right startled him, causing him to turn quickly in that direction.  And as he did so, he saw several men hurrying toward him.  As they drew nearer, be recognised them as neighbours, men he had known all his life.

“For heaven’s sake!” the first man exclaimed, as he reached the spot.  He ceased, and his eyes grew big with astonishment as he glanced down upon Randall.  “Is that him?” he asked.

“You know him, then?” John queried.

“Hen.  Randall, ain’t it?”

“Yes, all that’s left of him.  But how did you know he was here, Jim?”

“Oh, a feller came for us in a car.  Said his boss was out here somewhere, and he was afraid the fire had overtaken him.  Guess Randall must have got lost.  But we couldn’t do anything when we did come.  If it hadn’t been for that rain the fire would have done terrible damage.”

“It’s done a great deal already,” and John motioned to Randall, who had ceased his pleadings, and was lying still upon the ground.  “He’s had a hard time of it.  His ankle’s sprained or broken, I don’t know which, and he’s crazy.”

The four men of the relief party looked curiously upon Randall, who presented a wretched appearance with his blackened face and rain-soaked clothes.

“D’ye think he’ll get over this?” Jim Shaw asked, turning to John.

“Not if he stays here,” was the emphatic reply.  “You men must take him out of this at once.  I’ve got to go to the island.  Mother’s there.”

“Your mother’s on the island!” Jim fairly shouted the words.  “Why, no one could live on the island before that fire.  Good Lord, man!  She must be burned alive!”

For a few seconds the five men stood and stared at one another.  The horror of the situation silenced their tongues.  John was the first to speak.

“You look after Randall,” he ordered.  “I must get to the island and find out the worst.  Perhaps the rain checked the fire in time.”