"
I was fascinated. It was gruesome, and yet I could not take my
eyes off it. Torreon stood blankly, in a daze. Craig was as calm
as if his every-day work was experimenting on cadavers.
He applied the current, moving the anode and the cathode slowly.
I had often seen the experiments on the nerves of a frog that had
been freshly killed, how the electric current will make the
muscles twitch, as discovered long ago by Galvani. But I was not
prepared to see it on a human being. Torreon muttered something
and crossed himself.
The arms seemed half to rise--then suddenly to fall, flabby
again. There was a light hiss like an inspiration and expiration
of air, a ghastly sound.
"Lungs react," muttered Kennedy, "but the heart doesn't. I must
increase the voltage."
Again he applied the electrodes.
The face seemed a different shade of blue, I thought.
"Good God, Kennedy," I exclaimed, "do you suppose the effect of
that mescal on me hasn't worn off yet? Blue, blue everything blue
is playing pranks before my eyes. Tell me, is the blue of that
face--his face--is it changing? Do you see it, or do I imagine
it?"
"Blood asphyxiated," was the disjointed reply. "The oxygen is
clearing it."
"But, Kennedy," I persisted; "his face was dark blue, black a
minute ago.
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