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.

They went out of the Nestor yard, many of the crowd that had gathered
during the rescue following. The doctor administered some more
stimulant in the shape of aromatic spirits of ammonia to the man, who,
after his momentary revival, had again lapsed into a state of stupor.

"Who is he?" asked Tom, as the physician knelt down beside the silent
form.

"I don't know," said Mr. Nestor. "I know quite a number connected with
the fireworks factory, but this man is a stranger to me."

"I've seen him going into the main offices several times," remarked
Mary, who was standing beside Tom. "He seemed to be one of the company
officers."

"I don't believe so, Mary," stated her father. "I know most of the
fireworks company officials, and I'm sure this man is not one of them.
Poor fellow! He seems to be in a bad way."

"Mentally, as well as physically," put in Ned. "He acted as if sorry
that we had saved his life."

"Too bad," murmured Mary, and then a policeman, who had just come into
the yard to get the facts for his report, looked at the figure lying on
the grass, and said:

"I know him."

"You do?" cried Tom. "Who is he?"

"Name's Baxter, Josephus Baxter. He's a chemist, and he works in the
fireworks factory here. Not as one of the hands, but in the experiment
laboratory. I've seen him there late at night lots of times. That's how
I got acquainted with him. He was going in around two o'clock one
morning, and I stopped him, thinking he was a thief. He proved his
identity, and I've passed the time of day with him many a time since."

"Whe