d lightly. "And I'm not in what you could call condition, either.
Instead of wasting any time on fool questions like that, you two go over
your stuff and ask each other, have we got every last appliance known
to physics and surgery? Have we got duplicates on hand in case we break
delicate instruments like hypodermic syringes and that sort of thing?
Engage yourselves with questions pertaining to life; that is your
business. Instead of planning what you'll do in failure, bolster your
souls against it. Granny Moreland beats you two put together in grip and
courage."

The Harvester returned to his task, and the fight went on. At last the
hour came when the temperature fell lower and lower. The feeble pulses
flickered and grew indiscernible; a gray pallor hovered over the Girl,
and a cold sweat stood on her temples.

"Now!" said the Harvester. "Exercise your calling! Fight like men or
devils, but win you must."

They did work. They administered stimulants; applied heat to the chilled
body; fans swept the room with vitalized air; hypodermics were used; and
every last resort known to science was given a full test, and the weak
heart throbbed slower and slower, and life ran out with each breath. The
Harvester stood waiting with set jaws. He could detect no change for the
better. At last he picked up a chilled hand and could discover no
pulse, and the gray nails and the dark tips told a story of arrested
circulation. He laid down the hand and faced the men.

"This is what you'd call the crisis, Doc?" he asked gently.

"Yes."

"Are you stemming it? Are you stemming it? Are you sure she is holding
her own?"

Doctor Carey looked at him silently.

"Have you done all you can do?" asked the Harvester.

"Yes."

"You believe her going out?"

"Yes."

The Harvester turned to Doctor Harmon. "Do you concur in that?"

"Yes."

Then to the nurse, "And you?"

"Yes."

"Then," said the Harvester, "all of you are useless. Get out of here. I
don't want your atmosphere. If you can believe only in death, leave us!
She is my wife, and if this is the end she belongs to me, and I will do
as I choose with her. All of you go!"

The Harvester stepped to the bathroom door and called Granny Moreland.
"Granny," he said, "science has turned tail, and left me in extremity.
Fill your hot-water bottles and come in here with your heart big with
hope and help me save my Dream Girl. She is breathing Granny; we've got
to make her keep it up, t