“Let him sit up then,” said Mrs. Queerington. “He likes to see where he is going, don't you, Chick? Here goes our automobile! Honk! Honk!” The nurse wheeled him through the tall, gloomy halls, while Myrtella shambled at one side, clinging to his hand, and wiping her eyes. Miss Lady flitted along on the other, telling him about the new football that was going to be on his bed when he woke up. Then they halted, and Myrtella bent over him wildly. “Chick!” she cried, her face suddenly contorted, “look at me just once more! Tell me you fergive me, Chicky! Oh, if they kill you--!” The stretcher was shoved hastily into the elevator and the door closed on everybody but Chick and the nurse and the orderly. It was about that time that Chick decided to lie down. Where were they taking him? What were they going to do with him? What did Aunt 'Tella mean by those strange words? Where had Mis' Squeerington gone? With sudden quaking terror he looked at the nurse and broke into hoarse interrogatory sounds. “Here we are!” she cried soothingly, as the elevator came to a halt. “And here's Dr. Wyeth waiting for us.” “Well, my little man,” said the large figure in white, taking a small cold hand in his large strong one, “we are going to put you to sleep and when you wake up, it will be all over. You are pretty game, aren't you?” Chick, trying very hard to keep his knees from shaking the sheet, nodded emphatically. “I thought so,” lied the doctor cheerfully, looking into the terror-stricken eyes. “I can almost always tell when a fellow's made out of the right sort of stuff. You don't wear false teeth, do you?” Chick's sudden, toothless smile revealed the futility of this question. “That's good. No danger of your swallowing them. Now suppose you put this funnel over your mouth and take a big breath. That's right! Another one! That's right, once more!” Chick felt a hot, sweet air rush into his throat, and began to choke. But the doctor's voice kept saying insistently, “Once more!” “Once more, my boy!” And the doctor thought he was game. He shut his eyes and tried not to be afraid, but fearful things were happening! His skin was leaving his body; and he was going up in the air; lights danced before his eyes and he was suddenly in a terrible hurry about something. He had never been in such a hurry before! He was leaving doctors and nurses far below, he could hear their voices growing fainter every moment. Then suddenly the lights began to dance again, and the hurry came back, and all the breath was being squeezed out of him. No, he couldn't be game any longer! He must fight! Savagely, blindly, dumbly he struggled against this awful unknown thing that was mastering him. Then, after a last agonizing effort he sank helplessly into the abyss of sleep.