The Birmingham age-herald., 1923-07-01
The Game
By J. U. Giersy

hand. An iron bed was rne rapie across the white surface of which they faced one another as oppo- nents. Upon 1t lay the stakes-a girl, dark haired as night, white faced as those little counters men use in playing games of chance.
 The doctor glanced at her closed | eyes, her parted lips, and it seemed to him that Death held the stronger 1 hand
 Under the light of the shaded | hospital lamp he examined his own. 1 Very carefully he ran over the 1 cards upon his handling of which the outcome hung. He studied each in turn. There was the regular prescription. At best It had proved poor card There was his hypo- | dermic needle on a white enameled | table. with it's group of small bot | ties of tablets-good at best. only | for the tiding over of an emergency | of weakened vitality. There was adrenalin There was a tank of 1 oxygen. With it he could prolons the truggle-probably no more | Surely it was poor hand he held Sitting silent he summed up his | adversary's strength. There was l failing heart, a labored respiration, i obtunding nervous sensibility, the ! delerium of a fever poisoned brain.
 
 victory for his opponent unless he himself could fill his hand with 1 better He glanced at the woman's 1 husband, while his fingers groped l lightly for her thready pulse.
 The husband was young man. | dumb appeal of mental misery. How 1 is she?" he framed with his lips rather than spoke the question in his brain.
 The physician shook his head slightly. Then with a steady hand he made his first stake. Filling the hypodermic with tablet in solution he deftly injected the contents into the girls white arm.
 Death paused ere he returned the lead. Almost 1t seemed to the Doc tor that he hesitated before the bold front of the man against whom he played: Very slowly the thread of the pulse under the examining finger gained volume. A half hope stirred correspondingly in his heart. He glanced at the husband again, hesi- tated, sensed the pulse once more, it faltered, was failing. Death had played his return-he had raised.
 The husband came to the bed. "Is there any hope?" he begged. There must be-" the Doctor whis- pered. He was making ready his next play. Again the needle came into use. It was adrenalin he fed under. the pallid covering of the Woman's arm. Again he sat down and looked across at Death with a grim defiance in his eyes. Again Death-raised. Cold precipitation dewed the phy- sician's forehead. As one acting from predetermination he dropped the regular medicine far back upon the patients tongue.
 Death scarcely noticed the action.
 
 though he leered above a winning hand.
 "Is there any hope?" The voice of the husband again.
 It's a gamble-a gamble" The he played. He had been bluffins and Death knew it. Of what use to bluff with Death? In his wearied condt- ton 1t came to half seem that he could sense the grim spectre across the bed. In the dim light his oppo- sonality. Seizing the oxygen tank he wheeled it to the bed, adjusted it's mask to the girls face. Again it appeared that his adver- sary paused A little color crept into the lips of the woman, her chest heaved less painfully. But W would i'its. itS could 1t last? Way back in his mind the Doctor knew that once more Death would raise. He glanced at the husband He was-his last card Shes little better, isn't she?" 1 the younger man asked.
 She needs hlood-blood," said the Doctor hoarsely. "She needs good healthy blood. Boy-will you give it | to her?"
 firm. With a quick stride the Doctor reached small table, drew it into the circle of light. He swept his arm aboVe the instruments upon it. So rom your arm to hers-transfusion." he returned.
 The husband merely nodded. re- moved his coat, began rolling back his sleeve,
 A nurse came to the Doctors sum- mons. The preparations were made. lhen-a glitter of steel-a line of req on the husbands arm, line of paIer red on his wifes. Swiftly the vessels leap into sight. Deftly the transfusion tubes were placed. A | moment-a clip removed-blood iron, ] the living to the dying-life, The l Doctor made his last wager with 1 red, pulsing-life,
 Little by little as the man grew | paler, the womans color improved. Little by little, the pulse under the Doctors fingers grew firmer. steadier-the breathing attuned it. self. His eyes staring into the hollow ] sockets or the spectre with whom he | gambled he stood and waited. Suddenly he checked the flow. re- l moved the tubes and cast them from l him. He began to laugh, softly as n | chuckie-lounder and louder-until | the cacchination rang through. the room in horrible woves of an sIn,ost 1 insane exultation | Her arm about him. the nurse steadied him from the room. and still as he went. he laughed. Beaten, i've beaten you-Death! I held it 1 DOCK on you-Death! It was my ace in the hole! You thought you had | me-but l beat you! I beat you. | Death-with-life" '1' Yet no one wondered at this over- wrought emotion. for--the woman 1 was the Doctors only child.