heart; without a word she seized a towel, pulled his great hands away from that fount of jetting blood and covered him. By the time McGuire arrived they had got a fresh sheet under him; but the spreading horror of the great red blot could not be checked, the sheet was soaking in bright blood the moment that they got it down.
McGuire came in and took one look, then turned toward the window, fumbling in his pocket for a cigarette. Helen came to him and seized him by his burly arms, unconsciously shaking him in the desperation of her entreaty.
“You’ve got to make it stop,” she said hoarsely. “You’ve got to! You’ve got to!”
He stared at her for a moment, then stuck the cigarette in the corner of his thick lip, and barked coarsely:
“Stop what? What the hell do you think I am—Jehovah?”
“You’ve got to! You’ve got to!” she muttered again, her large gaunt face strained with hysteria—and then, suddenly, abruptly, quietly:
“What’s to be done?”
He did not answer for a moment: he stared out of the window, his coarse, bloated and brutally good face patched and mottled in late western light.
“You’d better wire the others,” he grunted. “That is, if you want them here. Tell Steve and Daisy to come on. They may make it. Where’s Eugene?”
“Boston.”
He shrugged his burly shoulders and said nothing for a moment.
“All right. Tell him to come on.”
“How long?” she whispered.
Again he shrugged his burly shoulders, but made no answer. He lit his cigarette, and turned toward the bed: nothing could be heard except Luke’s heavy and excited breathing. Both towel and sheet were red and wet again. Gant remained motionless, his great hands clasped upon the towel, his eyes bright with terror and pitiable entreaty. McGuire opened his old leather case, squinted at the needle, and loaded it. Then, the cigarette still plastered on his fat lip, coiling smoke, he walked over to the bed and even as Gant raised his fear-bright eyes to him, he took him by his stringy arm, and grunting “All right, W. O.,” he plunged the needle in above the elbow. Gant moaned a little, and relaxed insensibly after the needle had gone in: in a few minutes his eyes grew dull, and his great hands loosened in their clutch.
