Cinder Path Tales

ATHERTON'S LAST "HALF" 127 thin jersey. "Doc" joinedus at the door, and I was never so pleased to see anyone in my life, for I knew that hewould do all that could be done, andwe need not experiment with some one wedid not know. When wegot intoa quiet room we placed Teddy on a rubbing-couch, and "Doc" immediately appliedthe most powerful rem­ edies to revive him. They wereat first un­ successful, but by hypodermic injections of strychnine andbrandy, the wearied heart and lungs were at last induced to start feebly on their accustomed tasks. We were standing by the couch, watching the hint of color grow in the boy's cheeks, when suddenly the limp figure made a con­ vulsive effort (consciousness taking up the thread where ithad been broken, afew feet short of the tape), and he almost liftedhim­ self to his feet before we could catch him. As he fell backin our arms, there came to his lips the bright-red blood-spots, precursors of a fearful hemorrhage. It wasalmost impossiblefor us to check it, for the boy was delirious, wouldnot lie still, and kept sayingin a determined way, "I will win ! I must win !" He would turn his head, and call, " Bates ! Bates !" in a frenzy of fear and disappoint­ ment. " Bates, where are you ? My God,