She saw that he was holding a spoon, and she commanded herself and took it from him.  She wondered at the steadiness of her own hand as she put it to the white, unconscious lips.  They were rigidly closed, and for a few moments she thought her task was hopeless.  Then very slowly they parted.  She slipped the spoon between.

The silence in the room was deathly, the heat intense, heavy, pall-like.  Outside, the rain fell monotonously, and, mingling with its beating, she heard the croaking of innumerable frogs.  Neither Ralston nor Monck stirred a finger.  They were watching closely with bated breath.

Tommy’s breathing was wholly imperceptible, but in that long, long pause she fancied she saw a slight tremor at his throat.  Then the liquid that had been in the spoon began to trickle out at the corner of his mouth.

She stood up, turning instinctively to the man beside her.  “Oh, it’s no use,” she said hopelessly.

He bent swiftly forward.  “Let me try!  Quick, Ralston!  Have it ready!  That’s it.  Now then, Tommy!  Now, lad!”

He had taken her place almost before she knew it.  She saw him stoop with absolute assurance and slip his arm under the boy’s shoulders.  Tommy’s inert head fell back against him, but she saw his strong right hand come out and take the spoon that Ralston held out.  His dark face was bent to his task, and it held no dismay, only unswerving determination.

“Tommy!” he said again, and in his voice was a certain grim tenderness that moved her oddly, sending the tears to her eyes before she could check them.  “Tommy, wake up, man!  If you think you’re going out now, you’re damn well mistaken.  Wake up, do you hear?  Wake up and swallow this stuff!  There!  You’ve got it.  Now swallow—­do you hear?—­swallow!”

He held the spoon between Tommy’s lips till it was emptied of every drop; then thrust it back at Ralston.

“Here take it!  Pour out some more!  Now, Tommy lad, it’s up to you!  Swallow it like a dear fellow!  Yes, you can if you try.  Give your mind to it!  Pull up, boy, pull up! play the damn game!  Don’t go back on me!  Ah, you didn’t know I was here, did you?  Thought you’d slope while my back was turned.  You weren’t quick enough, my lad.  You’ve got to come back.”

There was a strange note of passion in his voice.  It was obvious to Stella that he had utterly forgotten himself in the gigantic task before him.  Body and soul were bent to its fulfillment.  She could see the perspiration running down his face.  She stood and watched, thrilled through and through with the wonder of what she saw.

For at the call of that curt, insistent voice Tommy moved and made response.  It was like the return of a departing spirit.  He came out of that deathly inertia.  He opened his eyes upon Monck’s face, staring up at him with an expression half-questioning and half-expectant.

“You haven’t swallowed that stuff yet,” Monck reminded him.  “Get rid of that first!  What a child you are, Tommy!  Why can’t you behave yourself?”