It was not long before she was asleep.
She was awakened by Joe, half dressed.
"Amy is sick!" he said sharply.

"Go in and help her, will you?
I'll try to get a doctor!" On Amy's bed, a little later, Ethel saw a face so changed from the one of a few hours before, that she felt her heart jump into her throat.
Amy's face was ugly and queer, distorted by frequent spasms of pain.
But worse was the terror in her eyes.
"Ethel, I think I'm dying!" she cried.

"Something I ate--it poisoned me!" There was a violent catch in her breath.
"Amy! Why, you poor little darling!" Ethel held her sister tight, asked quick anxious questions and did things to relieve her, but with little or no success.

It seemed hours till Joe came back.

With him was a doctor, who made an examination and then took Joe into the hall.