"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.