"Oh, sir--oh, sir!--don't give him in charge! Oh, sir--he shan't do it again!--please don't give him in charge!"
It was a piteous appeal, and Jim, hearing, rose to his feet.
"All right--take him away!"
Jim's head was swimming, and the blood was trickling over his face.
He staggered back into the passage, feeling that his senses were leaving him. Supporting himself by the wall, he passed through the waiting-room, gained the surgery proper, and was clutching at the counter when a figure appeared in the doorway.
It was the Hooligan--with an uglier look than ever in his eyes.
Jim saw the brutal face and the uplifted belt. The man was going to hit him again. The belt rose--but of a sudden help arrived from an unexpected quarter, for at that moment a little, quick-moving man entered the surgery, and, noting the position of affairs, seized the Hooligan's wrists, and brought the ruffian to the floor with a neat trip.
"I got your card, and came along as soon as I could," said Koko. "By the way, who's your friend?"
"Oh, he was only getting even with me," said Jim. "I hit him earlier in the day."
The Hooligan's wife was endeavouring to make her husband leave the waiting-room, but he seemed anxious to renew the combat.