“There aren’t no other plan, doctor.”
“I think there is,” cried Chris excitedly.
“Be silent, boy!” said the doctor.
“Yes, you’re out, squire,” said Griggs good-humouredly. “You’ve had your innings, and nearly got bitten. That’s taste enough for you. Let me have a bit of the fun. But look here, doctor; when a man is bitten you get out a bottle and a little squirt thing, make a hole in one of the veins, and send in a lot of stuff, don’t you?”
“Inject ammonia?” replied the doctor. “Yes; as a resource after lancing the wound and drawing out the poison, I should try that.”
“Ammonia,” said Griggs thoughtfully. “Yes, that’s it—counteracts the poison, doesn’t it?”
“Yes, and in some cases successfully, if it has been injected soon enough.”
“Hah!” cried the American. “That’s what I wanted to get at—soon enough. Now how would it be if to get quite soon enough you got out your bottle and gave me a dose of that stuff before I started?”
“What, injected into one of your veins?”
“Yes, sir. What do you say to that?”