Surely, thought Koko, in his simple faith, God would take that into consideration. _He_ would remember how young Jim was, and remember, too, that in spite of all the knocking about and drinking and ragging he had done, Jim had never once been guilty of a dishonourable action. He had lived a clean life, and such errors of conduct as he had been guilty of had been due rather to his careless, happy-go-lucky nature than to vicious inclination. He had knocked policemen down and painted the town blue, but he had been a gentleman through it all. The policemen always seemed to feel that, apart from the apologies and sovereigns he had subsequently applied to their bruises as healing balm of a practical kind. The matter with Jim had been--until a few months since--that he had always had too liberal a supply of pocket money to draw upon down at Threeways. Consequently, unscrupulous fellow-students had borrowed from him and never troubled to repay him; consequently, it was always Jim who stood treat; consequently, he had got into disgrace and earned the penalty of banishment. Such were Koko’s sad reflections as he sat by the sick-bed. Presently he looked at his watch, and discovered that he had just forty minutes in which to get his bag from his rooms in the Adelphi, and then catch a north-going express. For that night he was due to referee at a glove fight, at Gateshead, between Micky Brown, the Northumberland middle-weight champion, and Jake Morris, of Bethnal Green. He had also to wire a half-column report of the fight to the _Sporting Mail_. So he had, perforce, to leave Jim, not knowing whether he would ever see him alive again. For Trefusis had said that the forty-eight hours following Mortimer’s return to consciousness would decide his fate. Jim was still dozing. One of his hands lay limply on the coverlet of the bed. Koko laid his right hand upon it and gazed at the white face and the boyish, close-clipped head in its snowy bandages. "Good-bye, Jim!" he murmured, and went softly round to the door. He expected the nurse back about this time. If she had not come in he would have to ask Miss Bird to sit with Jim, as Miss Bird had already taken turns with Koko, Mr Maybury, and the trained nurse in sick-room duty. Koko was looking back for the last time at the still form of his friend, the sadness of his heart showing very visibly in his face, when the handle was turned and the trained nurse came in, fresh and rosy from her ride in the keen air. She was a bonny Scotswoman--quite a little thing--with blue eyes and flaxen hair. "Are you going so soon, Mr Somers?" she said. "Yes, I haven’t a moment to lose. I have to catch a train for Newcastle."