Again Parminter leaned over the chair, again he took Wallie Hine's hand and guided the pen, very carefully lifting it from the paper at the end of an initial or a word, and spacing the letters.

This time he seemed content.
"That will do, I think," he said, in a whisper.
Captain Barstow bent down and examined the writing carefully with his short-sighted eyes.
"Yes, that's all right." Parminter tore the leaf out, but this time he did not crumple it.

He blotted it carefully, folded it, and laid it on the mantle-shelf.
"Let us get him up," he said, and with Barstow's help they lifted Hine out of his chair.

Sylvia caught a glimpse of his face.

His mouth was loose, his eyes half shut, and the lids red; he seemed to be in a stupor.
His head rolled upon his shoulders.