for it he again asked over his shoulder: “Whom shall I say?”
The gasping reply was: “The Bee Master.”
So presently Jamie found himself insisting that Doctor Grayson come to the telephone personally, and when he had the assurance that Doctor Grayson was speaking, he found himself mustering strength to say: “The Bee Master has been stricken with a very hard attack. He wants you to come and to bring an ambulance. He wants to be taken to the hospital immediately.”
The answer had been: “All right. I can reach him inside of an hour.”
Then Jamie had cried into the telephone: “Instructions! Give me instructions! What shall I do for him?”
The answer was: “Aromatic spirits of ammonia. Bathe his face and hands. Give him a few drops. Keep him nearly upright. I will cut the time as much as I can.”
So Jamie went back to the davenport, and as he laid hands on the stricken man he whispered: “Now, help, Lord!” and from somewhere he drew strength to pull the Bee Master more nearly to a sitting posture and to pile the pillows higher behind him. Then he began looking around to see from what direction he might conjure aromatic spirits of ammonia. The doctor had spoken as if the remedy might be somewhere near and its use customary. When he could not see anything that suggested a bottle, he ventured a question and a wave of the hand directed him to an adjoining room where, on a table beside a bed, there stood a bottle labelled “Aromatic spirits.”
