“Fifty that he’s dead!”
“Fifty that he isn’t!”
“I say alive!”
“I say dead!”
“Well, hand me that stethoscope. I’m not going to be fooled by looks this time!”
Tearing in came the ambulance, its bell clanging, the hubs of the wheels barely missing the walls of the entryway, and as the stretcher was pulled out and set down on the stone step under the archway the three pushed about and hung over, feeling the heart and looking at the eyes and lips, now pale blue as in death, quite as one might crowd about a curious specimen of plant or animal.
“He’s alive!”
“He’s dead!”
“I say he’s alive! Look at his eyes!” to illustrate which one eye was forced open.
“Aw, what’s eatin’ you! Listen to his heart! Haven’t I got the stetho on it? Listen for yourself!”