"Vell, I never! Vot is it, doctor?"
"Irritation of the subcutaneous nerves," said Jim, wisely.
"Ah!" said the weary little old man, "sounds bad!"
"Oh no--it'll soon go off. I'll make you up a tonic with a touch of bromide in it. That'll soothe you."
"Bromide! Vy, ain't that the vicked stuff society ladies take?"
"Some of them. But they take it neat--yours will be diluted."
Jim made up a bottle of "the mixture," and the old man laid down his shilling.
"I feel better already, sir," he said; "'ope you'll come over to our place and get a bit to eat when you vant it. I'm from over the road--Harris."
"Right!" said Jim, "I won't forget. Good-day, Mr Harris."
And in this way an adventure befell Jim, for, feeling hungry about an hour later, he went over to the emporium of Harris & Son. Blocking up the doorway he found a burly ruffian with close-cropped hair and a scarf round his neck.