"Isaac Benjamin!" said Joe again.
Mr. Benjamin opened his eyes. Into them came the light of recognition as he gazed into Joe's face. He struggled to a sitting position.
"Joe—Joe Matson!" he murmured. "I—I hope your father will forgive me. I—I—"
"There, don't think of that now," said Joe gently. "Are you hurt?"
"No—nothing of any consequence. I'm not even burned, thanks to you. I climbed up into the tower when I found the place on fire. I—I—Joe, can you ever forgive me for trying to ruin your father?"
"Yes, of course. But don't talk of that now," Joe said, while the crowd looked on and wondered at the man and boy knowing each other—wondered at their strange talk.
"I—I must talk of that now—more—more danger threatens your father, Joe."
Joe thought perhaps the man might be in a delirium of fright, and he decided it would be best to humor him.
"That's all right," he said soothingly. "You'll be taken care of. We've sent for a doctor. How did you come to be in the old factory?"
"I—I was sleeping there, Joe." Mr. Benjamin's tones did not Indicate a raving mind.
