A moment and the blood that was, perhaps, to save the life of the
wounded felon was coursing into his veins from Elaine.
A moment later, Dr. Morton looked up at the Clutching Hand and
nodded, "Well, it's working!"
At Elaine's head, Clutching Hand himself was administering just
enough ether to keep her under and prevent a struggle that would
wreck all. The wounded man had not been anesthetized and seemed
feebly conscious of what was being done to save him.
All were now bending over the two.
Dr. Morton bent closest over Elaine. He looked at her anxiously,
felt her pulse, watched her breathing, then pursed up his lips.
"This is--dangerous," he ventured, gazing askance at the grim
Clutching Hand.
"Can't help it," came back laconically and relentlessly.
The doctor shuddered.
The man was a veritable vampire!
. . . . . . . .
Outside the deserted house, Kennedy and I were looking helplessly
about.
Suddenly Kennedy dashed back and reappeared a minute later with a
couple of pieces of armor. He held them down to Rusty and the dog
sniffed at them.
But Rusty stood still.
Kennedy pointed to the ground.
Nothing doing. In leading us where he had been before, Rusty had
reached the end of his canine ability.
Everything we could do to make Rusty understand that we wanted him
to follow a trail was unavailing.
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