Richard H. Hart

“ Then he seized his hat and rushed from the house; a moment's delay might mean victory for his ancient enemy, Death.
A plan of action—the only plan that might succeed—had popped into his head at old Etienne's first words. Etienne had said: "Mist' Favret is tak' bad, Mist' Doct'! T'ink probabl' you bette' come quick!" Etienne was only an unschooled Cajun, who "cou'n' read one w'd, if he's big as box-ca'"—but he loved Marcel Favret even as Doctor Dumont loved him, and there had been an agony of fear in his voice. The doctor had decided instantly that he must catch the westbound train. ”

“ He must—he must—arrive in time.
Then, only five minutes' ride from Walnut Street, Disaster showed its ugly face. The street-car's bell emitted a shower of angry clangs; the motorman whirled back the controller and threw on the brakes. The car ground to a stop.
Doctor Dumont was on his feet instantly, trying to beat down a great surge of despair.
There was no need to ask questions. Squarely across the track sprawled a huge tank-truck with one wheel missing and a rear axle gouged into the pavement. The street-car was effectively blocked. ”

“ The decision as to which ferry to choose had been made for him; he would cross the river at Walnut Street, and try to catch the train at Westwego.
Unconsciously, he seated himself at the extreme front of the car, as if to be that much closer to his goal. Marcel Favret was his life-long companion and dearest friend, and his patient only incidentally. Favret, suffering an unexpected relapse, needed the administration of digitalis most acutely, and only Doctor Dumont might ascertain from his symptoms the exact dosage which would save him. ”