Chapter XII Koko’s Word
“We’d better have a cab,” said Koko, in his quiet way, as, after Jim’s curt dismissal by Dr Taplow, they walked down the pavement together.
“Right you are,” groaned Jim. He felt too ill, weak, and miserable to do anything except just agree with everything that was said to him. If the gentle reader has ever been sea-sick he will be in a position to appreciate Jim’s condition.
“Keep a grip on that lamp-post while I fetch one,” said Koko, hastening away through the gloom of the autumn evening.
When the cab arrived, Jim got in thankfully; and the two friends, holding Tom, who had followed Jim out of the surgery, between them, rattled off.
“I suppose you’ll ask me to stay to dinner with you?” said Koko.
Jim uttered a hollow laugh.
“Stay if you like, but I won’t guarantee you’ll enjoy yourself.”
“Any girls?” inquired Koko, flirtingly.
“Two,” said Jim; “also a woman-man teetotal crank, and a female gorilla.”
Koko particularly wished to stay to dinner with Jim, for he was formulating a plan for Jim’s future. But he was not going to expound it until Jim was in a state to give it due consideration.
On reaching No. 9 they found Frank lurking in the passage. When Jim removed his hat, Frank, observing his wound, was filled with curiosity.
“I say, Dr Mortimer, how did you hurt your forehead?”
“Somebody hurt it for me,” said Jim.
“Was it a fight?” inquired the youth excitedly.
“Kind of one,” admitted Jim.
Full of the news he had gleaned, Frank burst into the drawing-room, where Mr and Mrs Maybury, Dora, and the other paying guests were awaiting the summons to dinner.
“I say, pater, Dr Mortimer’s been having a fight. He’s got an awful cut over the napper.”
“Frank!” exclaimed Mrs Maybury, “how often must I tell you not to use such vulgar terms?”
Frank grinned.
“You go and have a look at it!” he added, with supreme gusto, “you never saw such a whopping cut in all your life.”
Mrs Maybury turned a glance on her husband which plainly said: “And what do you think of him now?”
Miss Bird gave a snort of disgust, and Mr Cleave, heaving a deep sigh, buried himself anew in the advertisements of The Total Abstainer, he having by this time utterly exhausted all the literary portions of the paper.
Jim sent Mrs Maybury a message by Mary intimating that he had brought a friend, Mr Somers, home with him, and would be greatly obliged if she would permit the said Mr Somers to remain to dinner. Mrs Maybury graciously replying that she would be “most happy,” Koko and Jim (the latter with his head neatly plastered) in due course appeared in the drawing-room.
Much to Mrs Maybury’s surprise, Koko, after exchanging bows with the lady of the house, walked straight across to Dora and shook hands with her.
“You know Mr Somers, then, Dora?” inquired Mrs Maybury, somewhat sharply.
“Yes, mamma,” replied Dora; “he is a friend of Miss Cook’s.”
“Indeed!” said Mrs Maybury, to whom it seemed that Miss Cook had been introducing Dora to very undesirable people—for Dora had informed her that it was by Miss Cook’s agency she had become acquainted with Jim.
Dora had now been in the post-office six months, and had behaved so far in an exemplary manner. Even the girl’s stepmother, prone to find fault as she was on the slightest pretext, had not discovered anything to grumble at in Dora’s conduct. But now—now affairs were assuming a different complexion. Dora had made masculine friends unbeknown to her mother. One of them was a dissipated young doctor, and the other—well, who and what was this other man—this Mr Somers?
“And do you, too, belong to the medical profession, Mr Somers?” inquired the dame.
“No, I am a journalist,” replied Koko.
Miss Bird glanced up sharply; Mr Cleave also looked across at the visitor. Miss Bird had not been introduced to Mr Somers, but she did not allow little obstacles of that kind to stand in her way when she required information.
“And what is your particular department?” she abruptly demanded.
“I work for the sporting press—I am what is known as a sporting journalist,” replied Koko.
The inquisitive expression on Miss Bird’s face turned into a stony glare of disapproval.
“You go to horse-races?”
Koko did not like being cross-examined about his private affairs in this unblushing manner. So he determined to let this rude old lady know all about himself so as to save further questions.
“Yes, I attend horse-races and swimming-matches, and billiard-matches and prize-fights——”
“Then you ought to be ashamed of yourself!” roared Miss Bird. As for Mr Cleave, he uttered a thin, high cough. He had heard that the average journalist did his work with a bottle of brandy at his elbow—what then must a journalist be like who reported prize-fights and horse-races! What indeed!
With a sigh he sought distraction in the long list of “Homes for Inebriates” which appeared regularly in The Total Abstainer. This weekly journal was Mr Cleave’s invariable comforter when he felt distressed. Besides, it offered £100 insurance in the event of one of its regular subscribers being accidentally killed. Several of Mr Cleave’s nearest relatives took in the paper, and Mr Cleave had often calculated what amount he would receive as insurance should all these relatives be killed in one railway accident.
“I believe,” Miss Bird went on (as Koko made no rejoinder), “that drunkenness is a common vice among persons working for the press. Is that not so, Mr Cleave?”
“Pardon?” queried Cleave, putting his hand to his ear.
“Bless the man!” exclaimed Miss Bird, irritated beyond measure, “why doesn’t he get an ear-trumpet! I was saying,” she continued, in a boisterous key, “that most journalists were drunkards. Is that not so?”
Now, Mr Cleave recollected Mr Maybury’s stern rebuke of the previous evening, so he deemed it as well to be cautious.
“Some journalists,” he replied, nodding pleasantly at Miss Bird.
“Most!” insisted Miss Bird.
“I will not go so far as to say that——” quavered Mr Cleave.
“Then you are a coward!” snapped Miss Bird, in utter disgust. Mr Cleave had proved but a backboneless creature when she had relied on his support.
It is highly probable that Miss Bird would have proceeded to put further questions of a personal nature to Koko had not Mary popped her head into the room with “Dinner’s quite ready, mum.”
Miss Bird’s face cleared. She could eat twice as much as anyone else in the house (not excepting Frank), and the announcement of dinner always put her in a good temper.
Whilst Koko and Jim had been upstairs, before entering the drawing-room, Jim had given his friend a brief sketch of the situation. For, it must be remembered, this was their first meeting since Koko had read old Dr Mortimer’s drastic and final epistle. When Jim told Koko that this house was the home of Miss Dora Maybury, Koko had smacked his chum on the back and enjoined him to go in and win; but when Jim mentioned Jefferson, and the latter’s attitude with regard to Dora, Koko whistled thoughtfully.
Two things he decided. Firstly, that Jim must stay on at No. 9 at all hazards; and, secondly, that the plan which had been in course of formation in his mind from the moment Dr Taplow had told Jim to go, must take an immediate and definite shape.
That plan Koko intended to broach to Jim after dinner. But Fate willed otherwise.
The meal progressed quietly, the presence of a stranger possibly having a restraining influence on the shrewish outbursts of Miss H. R. Maybury, the cheeky utterances of Master Frank, and the voluble rebukes of Mrs Maybury. Jim was seated between Miss Bird and Mr Cleave, the two girls, with Frank and Koko, facing him. Dora, as a matter of fact, sat immediately opposite Jim.
“Well, Dr Mortimer,” presently observed Mr Maybury, “you have not come through your first day’s work unscathed, I see.”
For Mr Maybury felt sure that Jim would be able to give a satisfactory account of the proceedings.
Miss Bird grunted; Mr Cleave cast a glassy eye on the broccoli. Both waited for Jim’s defence.
Jim laughed. “No,” he said, “I met a Hooligan.”
“Dear me! So soon!”
“I thought it advisable, in view of the possibility of my being some time in the district, to take a strong line from the beginning. So I led off by tackling what turned out to be the worst man of the lot.”
“You have shown them that you are not a person to be trifled with?” suggested Mr Maybury, approvingly.
“That was my idea. But you may be interested to hear that another man has been put in permanent charge of the surgery——”
“Then you are no longer employed by Dr Taplow?” interrupted Mrs Maybury.
“That is so,” said Jim.
“But he will still work in Mount Street,” put in Koko, quickly, “as he is setting up a practice there on his own account.”
They all glanced towards Koko, except Dora, who, looking at Jim, observed that he was palpably wonder-struck by Koko’s remark. Jim, indeed, was as surprised as anyone at the table. What on earth was Koko driving at?
As everybody (except Dora) turned towards Koko, Mr Somers rose from the table.
“You must excuse such an unceremonious departure, Mrs Maybury,” he said, “but I have just remembered that I have a most important appointment to keep. I thank you for your very kind hospitality. Jim, I should like to see you before I go.”
As Koko bowed himself out, Jim, marvelling greatly, followed him. In the hall, Koko exclaimed:
“It’s all right, Jim—I’ll lend you the money.”
“What—for me to set up against Taplow?”
“That’s it. You must stay here, and you’ll do well in Mount Street. You shall have the money in the morning, and then you can go along and rig up a place and start right off. What’s the lowest figure you can begin on?”
“I don’t know,” said Jim. “Say fifty quid.”
“You shall have it. I’ll be round here with it at ten in the morning.”
“But—old man—I don’t like——”
“I’ve thought it out,” said Koko, “and meant to tell you all about it after dinner, but you forced my hand by saying you’d left Taplow.”
Then Koko put on his hat, opened the front door, and slipped out. Jim returned slowly to the dining-room.
“Is this true, Dr Mortimer?” asked Mrs Maybury, in a tone implying some doubt. “Are you really setting up in Mount Street on your own account?”
Jim had implicit confidence in Koko’s word.
“It is quite true, Mrs Maybury,” he replied, coolly, as he resumed his seat.