"What--Koko? Most harmless man on earth! Gets me out of scrapes, not into them!" A fresh grievance now occurred to the Doctor. "I am not at all satisfied with the way you are working," he said. "We dig in pretty hard at Matt’s," replied Jim, quite truthfully. "Yes--but how about your degree? I expect more than a mere qualification from you." "I’ll read like a nigger this time, grandfather----" "I’m glad to hear you say so," interrupted the Doctor, in a mollified tone. "Time and weather permitting," concluded Jim, indiscreetly. A short, ill-tempered cough sounded through the telephone. The Doctor was preparing his ultimatum; Jim’s addendum gave him his cue. "I suppose ’time and weather’ mean such dissolute companions as Coker, or whatever his absurd name is. Well, now, attend to me, James. I’m not squeamish, but I expect you to pull up. I won’t have any more playing the fool, either at the hospital or down here. For instance," he added, with growing ire, "what on earth d’you mean by masquerading about the high road in a dressing-gown?" "I prefer ease to elegance," said Jim, cheekily. "Well, sir," shouted the Doctor across the vibrating wire, "I don’t intend that my grandson shall be taken for one of my patients!" "Why--who took me for one of them?" demanded Jim in amazement. "The Countess of Lingfield." "The who?" exclaimed Jim. "The Countess of Lingfield. She spoke to you from her carriage half an hour ago." "By George!" Jim broke into a mellow laugh. "Was that a countess? I say, grandfather, who was the pretty girl with her?" "Her daughter," replied the Doctor; "and it was she who observed that you were probably one of the ’harmless variety’!" "Indeed!" said the Long ’Un, not quite so heartily. "Yes, sir," proceeded the Doctor, his ire rising again, "and I was placed under the ignominious necessity of having to admit that you were my grandson." "Awfully rough on you, grandpa." The Doctor was evidently fuming at the other end of the telephone. "So," was his next utterance, "I shall be obliged if you will behave more like a reasonable being in future. No more window-smashing, no more fighting with policemen, and no more drinking. I give you fair warning that if you cut any more capers, I’ll stop supplies, and you’ll have to get on as best you can by yourself. Good-bye!" "Half a moment, sir! I should like to see you again before I go." "I can’t wait." "Can’t you spare a minute, sir?" "No--I’ve wasted too much time already talking to you. Now remember! Any more nonsense, and you shan’t handle another penny of mine. Good-bye!" Jim let the receiver go with a bang, and a few moments later was flying across the road, his dressing-gown waving gracefully behind him. But he was too late. He arrived at "Pangora" just in time to see the carriage vanishing through the gates of the drive leading to a by-road on the opposite side of the house. *CHAPTER III.*