Steve rushed into the burning barn and came out with a blanket, and together they smothered the fire that was eating Fletcher’s clothes. But Zeb had been burned severely, and he groaned and moaned and prayed in a pitiful manner.
"I’m dying!" he screamed, in agony. "Oh, dear! It’s punishment! it’s punishment!"
He looked at Dick in horror, and in the eyes of the boy he hated he saw nothing but sympathy and pity.
"Don’t!" he moaned; "don’t look at me that way! Hate me! You would if you knew! I tried to hurt you every way! I tried to——"
"Never mind that now," said Dick, kneeling beside the unfortunate wretch. "You haven’t hurt me. They’re bringing a doctor. You’ll be all right when he has cared for you."
"I’m going to die!" persisted Zeb. "I know it! Oh. the pain! I can’t bear it! I tried to make you out a thief, and—your handkerchief——"
"Do you mean this one?" asked Professor Gunn, who had arrived on the scene, taking from his pocket the handkerchief he had found in his room, having on one corner the letters, "R. M."
"Yes!" gasped Zeb. "That’s it. I——"
"Here’s the doctor," said Dick Merriwell gently. "For Heaven’s sake, doctor, do something for the poor fellow. It’s awful to have him in such pain!"
The doctor made a hasty examination of Fletcher’s burns, soon applying something to soothe the pain.