"Stop screaming," she said quietly. "Is she sick?"

The Young Wife told her, her teeth chattering:

"Come quick! She's dying! Will's out of town. I tried to get
the doctor. The telephone wouldn't---- I saw your light! For
God's sake----"

Blanche Devine grasped the Young Wife's arm, opened the door, and
together they sped across the little space that separated the two
houses. Blanche Devine was a big woman, but she took the stairs
like a girl and found the right bedroom by some miraculous woman
instinct. A dreadful choking, rattling sound was coming from
Snooky's bed.

"Croup," said Blanche Devine, and began her fight.

It was a good fight. She marshaled her inadequate forces, made
up of the half-fainting Young Wife and the terrified and awkward
hired girl.

"Get the hot water on--lots of it!" Blanche Devine pinned up
her sleeves. "Hot cloths! Tear up a sheet--or anything! Got an
oilstove? I want a tea- kettle boiling in the room. She's got
to have the steam. If that don't do it we'll raise an umbrella
over her and throw a sheet over, and hold the kettle under till
the steam gets to her that way. Got any ipecac?"

The Young Wife obeyed orders, white-faced and shaking. Once