"It won't
take long for the doc to get here."

"But can't we do anything, meanwhile, for that poor Chink?" asked Nort.

"Guess there isn't much hope for him if he drank all that stuff,"
remarked Bud in gloomy tones. "Though we might try to help him get it
out of his stomach."

"How you goin' to do that?" Snake demanded.

"By giving him an emetic," Bud answered. "Mustard and water's good,
I've heard. Come on--we got to try something," and he turned to his
cousins as the most likely ones to be of service.

They found poor Fah Moo rushing around the somewhat narrow confines of
his kitchen. The Chinese was still yelling and holding both yellow
hands across the pit of his stomach. On a table, amid pots, pans and
dishes, were the three bottles of the Elixer of Life. Two were
completely emptied and the third had but a little fluid remaining in it.

"You drink all that?" asked Bud, pointing to the three bottles when he
could get Fah Moo's attention for a moment.

"Can do! Dlink lot--chop-chop!" was the groaning answer the import of
it being that he had taken the stuff quickly.

"Whew!" murmured Nort. "Guess there's no hope for him."

"There may be," said Dick. "Sometimes an overdose of poison is its own
antidote. He may have taken so much that he'll be sick and that would
be the best thing for him."

"He sure took an overdose," declared Bud. "See if you can find some
mustard, you fellows. I'll put on a kettle of water to boil. The
mustard ought to be mixed with warm water to make it work."

The boys bustled about, Fah Moo, meanwhile, rushing around, clutching
his stomach and howling at the top of his voice. Billee and his
companions looked in now and then to ask if they could help, or to
offer suggestions, more or less useless, but their services were not
required. Indeed there was room for no more first-aiders in the small
kitchen.

In due time the water was warm, the mustard had been found and a big
dose mixed. Then came the difficulty of administering it to the
Chinese cook, and a great difficulty it was. As soon as he got the
idea that he was to be made to drink something more, and when he had
sight of the unappetizing yellow mixture of warm water and mustard in a
big bowl, the cook revolted. He retreated into a corner, pulled a
chair in front of him and yelled:

"No can do! No can do!"

"But you've got to do!" insisted Bud. "It's the only way to save your
life! Drink it!"

"No can