Danger Zone [antikvár]

A Race Against Death The pale face of Dr. Curtis Welch grew very serious as he looked about the hospital room. He knew that he faced a hard fight—and all alone! He was the only doctor in the little town of Nome, Alaska, that bitter cold winter in 1925. Already three babies were dead. On the hospital beds lay twenty-five sick people. They had diphtheria, a terrible throat disease. If it should get out of control, it would sweep like wildfire over hundreds of square miles. Eleven thousand Eskimos and white people were in danger! A nurse called Dr. Welch to a small bed. "I'm afraid—" she began quietly. A single look told him that one more child was dead. "We've got to have help," he said in a worried voice. '1 mean help from the outside!" "Yes, it's getting away from us," agreed the nurse. "Maybe some town can send us more doctors. If we were only on the railroad, or if the sea weren't frozen! This load is too much for you alone." "It's not doctors or nurses we need," said Dr.