"I am going for the doctor," she said. "He has given me the address." She hurried away, leaving Old King Brady to assist in carrying Harry down the stone steps. Quong Lee was on hand at the foot. "Bling him to my loom," he said and he led the way. And once again poor Harry had to be dragged up a flight of narrow stairs. When they got him on Quong Lee's bed and loosened up his clothes the old divekeeper made a personal examination. "What do you think, Quong?" demanded Old King Brady when at last he pulled away. "Him velly bad," was the reply. "Me muchee flaid, Blady." "You consider him dead?" Quong Lee nodded. It was despairing, but as the old detective had already come to the same conclusion he said nothing and at last the Chinese doctor came. Instead of being the old man they had expected to see, he was quite a youthful looking proposition. Moreover, he wore American clothes and spoke perfect English. His name was High Lung, he informed Old King Brady. "There's your patient, Doctor," said the old detective. "He has been drugged by some of your people. To me he seems dead. Save him if you can and I'll write you a check for a thousand dollars." High Lung made no answer but proceeded to examine Harry. He took a long time about it, too. Old King Brady began to think he never would let up. At last Dr. High Lung pulled away. "He is not dead," he said, quietly. "I can save him." "Good!" cried Old King Brady. "Go ahead." High Lung then ordered Alice from the room and Harry was stripped. The Chinese doctor's treatment certainly was peculiar at the start. He climbed in the bed and lay down flat on top of Harry, breathing in his mouth and at the same time kneading his back with his hands. The ambulance surgeon looked on with no attempt to conceal his disgust. At last the Chinaman got off the bed and began opening a bag which he had brought along. "Examine him now, Doctor," he said. The surgeon did so. "Upon my word it is a fact that he is breathing," he admitted. "I wouldn't have believed it." The Chinese doctor then produced just such another box and vial as the old detective had seen the Chinamen handling in the secret den. Calling for a cup he put into it a portion of a grayish powder out of the box and poured a bright blue liquid upon it out of the vial. The mixture immediately foamed up. "Doctor, do you know the drug which has been used on my partner?" asked Old King Brady. "Perfectly well," replied the doctor. "Does it act on the heart?" demanded the surgeon. "Both on the heart and lungs," was the reply, and this was all they could get out of High Lung, who now proceeded to administer the mixture to Harry. It promptly did its work. Within ten minutes Young King Brady opened his eyes. "Oh! I have had such queer dreams!" he muttered. "Dream some more," said High Lung; and taking Old King Brady aside he said: