"My throat!"
For one moment she shrunk from him, but in the next he was lifted in her arms. She sat in a chair rocking him to and fro.
"Liz," she cried, excitedly, "you must go for a doctor at once—at once, do you hear?—or the child will die! He has scarlet-fever or diphtheria, one of the two—I am not doctor enough to know which!"
A wild terror leaped to the woman's face, but she did not move.
"I can't!" she gasped. "Ben would kill me for leaving you here alone, and he would kill Dick because I loved him enough to risk it. Oh, my God, what am I to do?"
"Go for the doctor, quick!" commanded Leonie, "Ben can think that I was locked up, for I swear to you that I will make no attempt to escape. If he undertakes to hurt Dick when he comes home I will find a way to prevent him if I get killed myself for it! Oh, Liz, go! Is it possible that you can stop to think of anything when this poor child is dying?"
"Dying! dying!" repeated the unhappy woman, in an awe-stricken voice. "Now, God hear my vow! If he dies I will kill the man that has caused it, I swear it! He has wrecked my life, he has made me what I am, and I will end it all in a fitting manner. Oh, Dick! Dick!"
She snatched up a scarf and wrapped it about her head, dashing down the steps and out the door with the speed of the wind.
She did not pause even to secure the door behind her, but seemed almost to fly along until she had reached the office of a doctor.
"Quick!" she gasped. "It is Dick, and he is dying!"