e," said Barstow.
"Get him out--get him out where I can see him, won't you?"
Barstow stooped.
"Come, Sandy, come," he called.
Donaldson leaped forward.
"What did you call him?" he demanded as Barstow staggered back.
"Have you gone mad?" shouted Barstow.
"What did you call him?" repeated Donaldson fiercely. "Tell me what
you called him?"
"I called him Sandy. Control yourself, Don. If you let yourself go
this way--it's the end."
"The end?" shouted Donaldson. "Man, it 's the beginning! It's just
the beginning! Sandy--Sandy did n't die after all!"
"Oh, that's what's troubling you," returned Barstow with an air of
relief. "Why did n't you tell me? You thought the dead had risen, eh?
No, the stuff didn't work. The dog only had an attack of acute
indigestion from overeating. But Gad, the coincidence _was_ queer,
when you stop to think of it. I 'd forgotten you left before he came
to."
"Then," cried Donaldson excitedly, "you did n't have any poison after
all!"
"No. I was so busy on more important work that my experiments with
that stuff must all of them have been slipshod. But it did look for a
minute as though Sandy here had proven it. But, Lord,--it was n't the
poison that did for him--it was his week. His week was too much for
him!"
"Give me your hand, Barstow. Give me your hand. I 'm limp as a rag."
"That's your nerves again. If you were normal, the mere fact that you
thought you saw a spook dog would n't leave you in this shape. Come
over here and sit down."
"Get me some water, old man--get me a long, long drink."
When Barstow handed him the glass, which must have held a pint,
Donaldson trembled so that he could hold it to his lips only by using
both hands, as those with palsy do. He swallowed it in great gulps.
He felt as though he were burning up inside. The room began to swim
around him, but with his hands kneading into the old sofa he warded off
unconsciousness. He must not lose a single minute in blankness. He
must get back to her--get back to her as soon as he could stand. She
was suffering, too, though in another way. He must not let another
burning minute scorch her.
"Perhaps you 'll take my advice now," Barstow was saying, "perhaps you
were near enough the brink that time to listen to me. Tell me I may
ring up Lindsey--tell me now that you 'll go with him."
"Go--away? Go--out to sea?" cried Donaldson.
"Yes. To-morrow morning."
"Why, Lord,
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