The doctor leaned quickly forward, listened for
a moment, his ear to the boy's chest, and said in
a quiet, restrained voice:

"Go into the other room, Mrs. Fogarty, and stay
there till I call you." The woman raised her eyes
to his and obeyed mechanically. She was worn out,
mind and body, and had lost her power of resistance.

As the door shut upon her Doctor John sprang
from the stool, caught the lamp from the wall, handed
it to Fogarty, and picking the child up from the
crib, laid it flat upon his knees.

He now slipped his hand into his pocket and took
from it a leather case filled with instruments.

"Hold the light, Fogarty," he said in a firm,
decided tone, "and keep your nerve. I thought he'd
pull through without it, but he'll strangle if I don't."

"What ye goin' to do--not cut him?" whispered
the fisherman in a trembling voice.

"Yes. It's his only chance. I've seen it coming
on for the last hour--no nonsense now. Steady, old
fellow. It'll be over in a minute. ... There, my
boy, that'll help you. Now, Fogarty, hand me that
cloth. ... All right, little man; don't cry; it's all.
over. Now open the door and let your wife in,"