smothering pressure on his chest. It was an oppressive and
torturing thing, like the tree that had fallen on him over in the
Jackfish country, and he felt himself slipping off into darkness.
Suddenly there was a gleam of light. He opened his eyes. The sun
was flooding in at his window, and the weight on his chest was the
gentle pressure of Cardigan's stethoscope.

In spite of the physical stress of the phantoms which his mind has
conceived, Kent awakened so quietly that Cardigan was not
conscious of the fact until he raised his head. There was
something in his face which he tried to conceal, but Kent caught
it before it was gone. There were dark hollows under his eyes. He
was a bit haggard, as though he had spent a sleepless night. Kent
pulled himself up, squinting at the sun and grinning
apologetically. He had slept well along into the day, and--

He caught himself with a sudden grimace of pain. A flash of
something hot and burning swept through his chest. It was like a
knife. He opened his mouth to breathe in the air. The pressure
inside him was no longer the pressure of a stethoscope. It was
real.

Cardigan, standing over him, was trying to look cheerful. "Too
much of the night air, Kent," he explained. "That will pass away--
soon."

It seemed to Kent that Cardigan gave an almost imperceptible
emphasis to the word "soon," but he asked no question. He was
quite sure that he understood, and he knew how unpleasant for
Cardigan the answer to it would be. He fumbled under his pillow