"Oh, some old friends of ours--not at all grand. He is a bookseller."
"I suppose he has all the new novels. I wonder if he ever reads them!"
"He doesn't have any new novels, Dora. He is a second-hand bookseller.
He deals in all sorts of old books."
"Oh!" said Dora. "Mr Somers is very fond of collecting old books, isn't
he?"
"Yes, he has found some very good ones in the twopenny boxes--you
know--the boxes which they mark 'THIS LOT 2d.'"
Dora laughed.
"Does Mr Somers go routing about for old books in those boxes?"
"Yes; he has made several 'finds,' as he calls them. My friend bought
some from him a short time ago."
"What! has he been selling them again?"
"Yes; I wonder why! He called on my friend quite late one night, and
sold him twelve very valuable books. He got fifty pounds for them. I
wonder why he sold them--he is so fond of his old books! But here we
are! Isn't it a queer, musty old place!"
Koko received the girls with a smile of genuine pleasure. He bustled
about and got tea for them, and then Dora played to them both on a very
old but still tuneful piano that Koko had picked up at a sale years
since.
Then, while Miss Cook sat down and tried to pick out a march on the
piano, Koko showed Dora his treasures, and spent quite a time telling
her little anecdotes as to how this book and that book had come into his
possession. While he talked, Dora was putting two and two together. She
remembered how amazed Jim had looked when Koko said he was going to set
up in Mount street, and she remembered how Koko had hurried away in the
middle of dinner. She understood now why he had done so.
"Some have gone from here," said Dora, pointing to a gap in one of the
shelves.
"Yes," said Koko, in an off-hand way, "I have a clear-out occasionally."
"Did you sell them?" she asked.
"Rather--I don't give my books away."
"And did you get a good price for them?"
"Fair," said Koko; "yes, a fair price."
Miss Cook ended up with a loud and inharmonious chord, and rose from the
piano.
"Come, Dora--we must be going."
"Oh, don't go yet," urged Koko.
"We must--it is getting late, and Dora is expected at home. Good-bye,
Mr Somers."
They shook hands, and Miss Cook sauntered out into the passage.
And now Dora had to say good-bye.
"Mr Somers--I know why you sold those books. You wanted to help Dr
Mortimer."
Koko gazed at her for a few moments without speaking, and then said,
quite simply: "Yes, I did. Jim's my best friend. I'd do anything to
help him."
[Illustration: "HE'S MY BEST FRIEND," SAID KOKO.]
As he spoke, his glance wandered to the half-emptied shelf. Much as he
loved his old books, however, he did not regret his recent sacrifice.
"You are a very good man, Mr Somers--very kind and good. I only wish,"
she added, with demure hesitation, "that I were a little younger, for
then it would be quite proper for me to--to kiss you."
"Are you coming, Dora?" Miss Cook was growing impatient.
Koko turned to Dora with a smile and took her hand.
"If _I_ were a little younger, perhaps it would not be proper," he said
gently, "but as I'm ever so much older than you, don't you think
that----"
"Why, yes," said Dora, and, bending swiftly, she kissed him.
*CHAPTER XVI.*
*JIM'S PATIENTS.*
Thereafter, watching his friend closely, Koko observed a gradual change
overcoming Jim. Often enough Jim's merry smile flashed up, 'tis true,
but when it died away the normal expression it left on his face was not
quite what it had been of yore. There was a wistfulness in Jim's eyes
nowadays that Koko had never seen there before.
This change made clear to Koko the fact that Jim's medical student
cubbishness had largely taken wing. Jim was no longer Fortune's spoilt
boy. The outline of his face was less round, his features were more
distinctive, his chin seemed set in a firmer mould, and the soft lines
about the corners of his mouth, though still apparent, were not so soft
as they had been but a few months since.
Koko was particularly struck by the alteration in Jim when, after a
fortnight's absence in the country, he looked the Long 'Un up at his
surgery one evening in the latter part of November.
Jim greeted his friend warmly, offered him a cigar, poked up the fire,
and then, by way of avoiding more awkward topics, began to talk about
his work.
He had much of interest to relate of his daily rounds, and Koko,
listening in the kind of way that is so helpful to a talker--that is to
say, with unassumed appreciation--realised that Jim had indeed tackled a
hard nut in the Mount Street district. For Jim had to go into such
slums as your apple-faced peasant in the wide, wind-blown shires would
not live in rent free. In these foul places herded scum from across the
seas that gloried in its filth, and regarded decent quarters with
positive repugnance. Jim had to make his way through crooked alleys
into crime-infested courts--into courts where no policeman would go
unaccompanied by a fellow. Jim went alone, however, trusting to luck
and his two good fists to get out again in the event of his meeting a
hostile gang of Hooligans.
Jim told Koko of a squalid room he had that day been into which
contained four separate families--each family occupying a corner.
Koko smiled. "I suppose they don't mind it?" he said.
"Mind it!" cried Jim. "Why, they like it, man! Being a lot in a room
keeps them warm. They're company for each other. When number one
family has a scrap with number two, three and four look on and applaud.
Nice friendly arrangement--eh?"
"Don't some of these scraps turn out seriously?"
"Sometimes. The fellow who showed me up to-day is known to have killed
a man in a scrap--but he got off by some queer hitch in the evidence. A
very civil spoken chap--burglar by profession."
Koko opened his eyes. "A bit different from taking fees in Harley
Street?" he said.
"Not so remunerative, but more exciting," returned Jim. "The other
day," he added, "I was attending a woman, when her husband came up with
a crowbar and told me to stand aside, as he wanted to 'finish' her."
"What did you do?"
"Asked him to wait till I'd done with her. He said he would if I'd have
a drink, so we had some gin together, and then he lay down in a corner,
saying he'd finish her after he'd had a nap. The lady told me not to
worry, as he'd be as gentle as a lamb when he'd slept his drink off.
She understood him, you see."
"She'd a fine nerve," commented Koko.
"Another time," continued Jim, "I was called to see an old chap who
lived by himself in a garret. He'd got D.T.s very hot indeed, and was
sitting up in bed with the counterpane covered with sovereigns and
bank-notes. There must have been hundreds of pounds there. Miser, I
suppose. When I arrived he was holding conversations with imaginary
relatives who were evidently (in his opinion) after his cash. He was
threatening one with a revolver, and calling him all sorts of purple
names. It was the revolver business which made the other people in the
house send for me. To oblige him, I threw his imaginary relatives out
of the window, and told him they'd fallen on their heads in the court
below. That pleased him, and he said he would like to reward me for my
trouble. I thought he was going to press a tenner on me, but instead he
asked me if I could change half-a-sovereign. I said I could, and he
then gave me half-a-crown."