Roy, understanding, did as he was told. There was a swift jab of a hypodermic needle. In a moment the breathing resumed, the pulse fluttered.
Doctor Ring watched the face anxiously.
“I was afraid of that,” he said softly. “It was too much for him.” There was a moment’s silence. Then the lips moved again, and a faint flush of color came to the cheeks.
The doctor gave a “whew!” of relief.
“He’ll come out of it now,” he said finally. “It’s better to have it over with. Besides, he may have needed just that stimulus to help him fight. Now he’ll get well just to recover his nuggets.” His tone was hopeful. Plainly he had been in doubt as to whether or not he had done the right thing in letting Roy see and talk to the patient.
Roy walked to the other side of the room after giving one more glance at the unconscious man. At that moment Mr. Ball descended the stairs.
“How’s he comin’?” he whispered. “Any better?”
The doctor nodded.
“I think so,” he replied. “I’ll have to stay here for a while yet.”
“All right,” Peter Ball remarked. “I sure hope he makes out. What happened to him? Miner, ain’t he?”