Without a word I thrust the antidote and the syringe into the
hands of the doctor and he went to work immediately. We watched
with anxiety. Finally Kennedy's eyes opened and gradually his
breathing seemed to become more normal.

The antidote had been given in time.

. . . . . . .

Kennedy was considerably broken up by the narrow escape which he
had had, and, naturally, even the next morning, did not feel like
himself.

In the excitement of leaving Elaine's we had forgotten the bottle
of digitalin. As for myself, I had been so overjoyed at seeing my
old friend restored that I would have forgotten anything.

Kennedy looked rather wan and peaked, but insisted on going to the
laboratory as usual.

"Do you remember what became of the bottle of digitalin?" he
asked, fumbling in the closet.

Mechanically I felt in my own pockets; it was not there. I shook
my head.

"I don't seem to remember what became of it--perhaps we left it
there. In fact, we must have left it there."