By a shifting of the group around the bed, K.'s eyes looked for a moment

directly into Carlotta's. Just for a moment; then the crowd closed up

again. It was well for Carlotta that it did. She looked as if she had seen

a ghost--closed her eyes, even reeled.

"Miss Harrison is worn out," Dr. Wilson said brusquely. "Get some one to

take her place."

But Carlotta rallied. After all, the presence of this man in this room at

such a time meant nothing. He was Sidney's friend, that was all.

But her nerve was shaken. The thing had gone beyond her. She had not

meant to kill. It was the boy's weakened condition that was turning her

revenge into tragedy.

"I am all right," she pleaded across the bed to the Head. "Let me stay,

please. He's from my ward. I--I am responsible."

Wilson was at his wits' end. He had done everything he knew without

result. The boy, rousing for an instant, would lapse again into stupor.

With a healthy man they could have tried more vigorous measures--could have

forced him to his feet and walked him about, could have beaten him with

knotted towels dipped in ice-water. But the wrecked body on the bed could

stand no such heroic treatment.

It was Le Moyne, after all, who saved Johnny Rosenfeld's life. For, when

staff and nurses had exhausted all their resources, he stepped forward with

a quiet word that brought the internes to their feet astonished.

There was a new treatment for such cases--it had been tried abroad. He

looked at Max.

Max had never heard of it. He threw out his hands.

"Try it, for Heaven's sake," he said. "I'm all in."

The apparatus was not in the house--must be extemporized, indeed, at last,

of odds and ends from the operating-room. K. did the work, his long

fingers deft and skillful--while Mrs. Rosenfeld knelt by the bed with her

face buried; while Sidney sat, dazed and bewildered, on her little chair

inside the door; while night nurses tiptoed along the corridor, and the

night watchman stared incredulous from outside the door.

When the two great rectangles that were the emergency ward windows had

turned from mirrors reflecting the room to gray rectangles in the morning

light; Johnny Rosenfeld opened his eyes and spoke the first words that

marked his return from the dark valley.

"Gee, this is the life!" he said, and smiled into K.'s watchful face.

When it was clear that the boy would live, K. rose stiffly from the bedside

and went over to Sidney's chair.




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