"Do so, mate," returned Jack, hopefully again; "do so."
"I will."
He pressed his lips and knit his brows with a burlesque, melodramatic air, and strode up and down, with his forefinger to his forehead.
He stopped suddenly and stamped twice, as a haughty earl might do in a transpontine tragedy when resolving upon his crowning villany, and exclaimed in a voice suggestive of fiend-like triumph—
"I have it."
"Hold it tight, then."
"One of us must sham ill so as to get the doctor here. Once he's here, we shall be all right."
"Hurrah!" cried Jack Harkaway; "that's the notion. We shall yet defeat the schemes of that incarnate fiend, Murray."
"That is a capital idea," said Mr. Mole. "You have suggested quite a new idea."
"Now stop; the next thing for us to think of is who is to be the sham invalid," said Jack.