"I should never have thought," murmured the Doctor, "that Jim would have settled down in a place like this." "He did settle down, though," said Koko, "and he was working it up into a good thing when this horrible plot was laid for him." "We must keep it going, then," said the Doctor. "Do you suppose any of his friends at the hospital would be willing to act in his place?" "Sure of it," said Koko. "I think you had better ask Evans--a red-headed man--and Deadwood. They are both friends of Jim’s." "I’ll go and see them at once," said the Doctor, "and then I must get back to Threeways. I have some patients I cannot leave for long." "What about the hoarding?" asked Koko. "Well," said the Doctor, "considering the service Mr Harris rendered last night, I think we ought to let him continue to make money out of Jim’s walls." And so, thereafter, each Monday saw a fresh pictorial embellishment of the surgery’s exterior; every Monday the youth of Mount Street was thrilled to the marrow by new scenes of derringdo of lovely ladies in peril and gallant gentlemen dashing to their assistance, and of virtue triumphing over vice, as always virtue will do so long as there remain in the world good women and honourable men. And the transpontine drama reaped many sixpences thereby. *CHAPTER XXX.* *THE WEEK PASSES.* True to the prognostication of the great Trefusis, Jim Mortimer remained unconscious for seven days. During that time, liquid food--beef extract and milk--was poured down his throat, and thus the lamp of his life was kept alight. At the end of the week, Jim, emaciated and hollow-cheeked, opened his eyes, and the first person he caught sight of and addressed was, appropriately enough, his friend George Somers. "Well, young feller!" he said, with a brave attempt to smile in his old, cheery way. Koko took his hand and pressed it gently. "You must get well quick now, Jim, old boy." "It isn’t in me," said Jim. "But you must. Oh, Jim, please buck up and get well!" Jim tried to shake his head, and the agonising pain which this slight action caused him brought the perspiration out on his face. "I’m too far gone, dear old chap," he murmured. "I know it." Koko gently bathed his friend’s damp face with a sponge dipped in some cool, soothing lotion. His touch was as soft as a woman’s. The trained nurse, when she went out for her daily ride on the top of a ’bus, knew that she was leaving her patient in good hands when she left him with Koko. "That’s great," muttered Jim, and fell into a doze. As Koko kept watch by his chum’s bedside, his kindly brown eyes became dim and misty. Could it be that he was to lose Jim after all? he wondered. Oh no, that could not be! Surely this great, honest fellow would be spared! He was so young--hardly more than a boy--and had lived such a little time.