“Open all the windows, please,” he said in a quiet, business-like tone.
He laid his ear upon the patient’s breast, and listened.
“When did this begin?” he asked at length.
“I should say about half an hour ago,” Romer answered, looking at his watch.
“Is—is there any occasion for anxiety?” Hetzel inquired.
The doctor shrugged his shoulders. “Can’t tell yet,” was his reply.
He drew a leather wallet from his pocket, and unclasping it, disclosed an array of tiny glass phials. One of these he extracted, and holding it up to the light, called for a glass of water. Romer brought the water. The doctor poured a few drops of medicine from his phial into the tumbler. The water thereupon clouded and became opaque. Dipping his finger into it, the doctor proceeded to moisten Arthur’s lips.
“Each of you gentlemen please take one of his hands,” said the doctor, “and chafe it till it gets warm.”
Romer and Hetzel obeyed.
“Want him taken to the hospital?” the doctor inquired presently.