ped the tongue of the dead man with the
forceps, pulled it up off the soft palate, and fitted the rubber cap
snugly over his mouth and nose.

"This is the Draeger pulmotor," he explained as he worked, "devised
to resuscitate persons who have died of electric shock, but actually
found to be of more value in cases of asphyxiation. Start the motor."

The pulmotor began to pump. One could see the dead man's chest rise as
it was inflated with oxygen forced by the accordion bellows from the
tank through one of the tubes into the lungs. Then it fell as the
oxygen and the poisonous gas were slowly sucked out through the other
tube. Again and again the process was repeated, about ten times a
minute.

Dr. Burnham looked on in undisguised amazement. He had long since
given up all hope. The man was dead, Medically dead, as dead as ever
was any gas victim at this stage on whom all the usual methods of
resuscitation had been tried and had failed.

Still, minute after minute, Kennedy worked faithfully on, trying to
discover some spark of life and to fan it into flame. At last, after
what seemed to be a half-hour of unremitting effort, when the oxygen
had long since been exhausted and only fresh air was being pumped into
the lungs and out of them, there was a first faint glimmer of life in
the heart and a touch of color in the cheeks. Haswell was coming to.
Another half-hour found him muttering and rambling weakly.

"The letter--the letter," he moaned, rolling his glazed eyes about.
"Where is the letter? Send for Grace."

The moan was so audible that it was startling. It was like a voice
from the grave. What did it all mean? Mrs. Martin was at his side in a
moment.

"Father, father,--here I am--Grace. What do you want?"

The old man moved restlessly, feverishly, and pressed his trembling
hand to his forehead as if trying to collect his thoughts. He was
weak, but it was evident that he had been saved.

The pulmotor had been stopped. Craig threw the cap to his student to
be packed up, and as he did so he remarked quietly, "I could wish
that Dr. Scott had been found. There are some matters here that might
interest him."

He paused and looked slowly from the rescued man lying dazed on the
bed toward Mrs. Martin. It was quite apparent even to me that she did
not share the desire to see Dr. Scott, at least not just then. She was
flushed and trembling with emotion. Crossing the room hurriedly she
flung open the door into the hall