inute he might become encircled by a roaring furnace. He was
most thankful that the fire had not reached the lake, so he would be in
time to assist the ones on the island in case of need. The only danger
would be from flying embers, but if there, he might be able to stamp
out any flame before it had time to do much damage.

As he hurried along the edge of the plains the roar of the fire became
almost deafening, while the incessant crashing of trees added to the
horror. Never before had he experienced such a forest fire, although
he had heard old men tell with almost bated breath of the wild fires
they had witnessed, and of the destruction which had ensued.

He had gone about half way to the lake, when, happening to glance to
his right, be saw something slowly moving among the bushes some
distance away. As he looked, he noticed that it was a man, who seemed
to be limping painfully among the bushes. At times he stopped, glanced
back, and then staggered forward. Who could it be? he wondered, and
what was he doing over there? That the man needed assistance was
certain, for at the rate he was travelling he would surely be overtaken
by the fire ere he could reach the lake. John was greatly puzzled.
What should he do? He must reach the island in time to save the women,
and yet it was not right to leave the apparently helpless man on the
plains to die.

As he stood there uncertain what to do, the creeping figure among the
bushes suddenly stumbled, and with a wild cry of despair fell headlong
upon the ground. No longer did John hesitate. He sprang forward,
plunged through the bushes, leaped over jagged rocks, and in a few
minutes was by the side of the prostrate man.

"Hello! What's wrong?" he asked. "Can I do anything for you?"

Hearing the sound of a human voice, the fallen man moved, lifted his
head, and looked around. As be did so, John gave a great start and
uttered an exclamation of astonishment. It was Henry Randall!

CHAPTER XXVI

IN THE RING OF DEATH

At first Randall did not recognise the young man who had so suddenly
appeared before him. He stared as if he beheld a vision, and his lips
moved, although he uttered no sound. His face was drawn and haggard,
his eyes wild and blood-shot. He was a far different man from the
bustling and imperious lumber merchant of the morning.

"What's wrong?" John asked. "Can I help you?"

"What's wrong?" the man repeated. "Everything's wrong. My daug