And he went out whistling "I'd Never Kissed a Soldier Till the War."

II

"Where's Mr. Gupperduck?"

There was anxious alarm in Mrs. Bindle's interrogation.

"Well," responded Bindle, as he nodded to Mr. Hearty and waved his hand to Mrs. Hearty, "I can't rightly say. 'E may be 'appy with an 'arp in 'eaven, or 'e may be a-groanin' in an 'ospital with a poultice where 'is face ought to be. Where's Millikins?" he demanded, looking round.

"She's with her Aunt Rose," wheezed Mrs. Hearty.

"What has happened, Joseph?" faltered Mr. Hearty.

"Well, it ain't altogether easy to say," responded Bindle with aggravating deliberation. "It ought to 'ave been a peace-meetin', accordin' to plan; but some'ow or other things sort o' got mixed. I ain't seen a sc.r.a.p like it since that little bust-up in the country when the lemonade went wrong."

Bindle paused and proceeded to refill his pipe, determined to keep Mr.

Hearty and Mrs. Bindle on tenter-hooks.

"Where is he now?" demanded Mrs. Bindle.

"Can't say!" Bindle sucked at his pipe, holding a lighted match well down over the bowl. "I see 'im bein' taken orf on a stretcher, an' wot 'e was wearin' wouldn't 'ave made a bathin' suit for an 'Ottentot."

"Did they kill 'im, Joe?" wheezed Mrs. Hearty.

"You can't kill coves like Guppy, Martha," was Bindle's response.

"'E's got more lives than a rate-collector."

"What happened, Joseph?" said Mr. Hearty. "I had meant to go to that meeting myself." Mr. Hearty made the statement as if Providence had interposed with the deliberate object of saving his life.

"Lucky for you, 'Earty, that you didn't," remarked Bindle significantly. "You ain't no good at sc.r.a.ppin'. Well, I'll tell you wot 'appened. Guppy seems to 'ave said a little too much about the 'Uns, an' wot fine fellers they was, an' it sort o' give them people wot was listenin' the pip, so they goes for Guppy."

"The cowards!" Mrs. Bindle snapped out the words venomously.

"You got to remember, Lizzie," said Bindle with unwonted seriousness, "that a lot o' those people 'ad lost them wot they was fond of through this 'ere war, an' they wasn't keen to 'ear that the 'Un is a sort o'

picture-postcard, with a dove a-sittin' on 'is 'elmet."

"What did you do?" demanded Mrs. Bindle aggressively.

"Well, I jest looked on," said Bindle calmly. "I've warned Guppy more'n once that 'e'd lose 'is tail-feathers if 'e wasn't careful; but 'e was that self-willed, 'e was. You can't throw 'Un-wash over crowds in this 'ere country without runnin' risks." Bindle spoke with conviction.

"But it's a free country, Joseph," protested Mr. Hearty rather weakly.

"Oh! 'Earty, 'Earty!" said Bindle, wagging his head despondently.

"When will you learn that no one ain't free to say to a cove things wot make 'im wild, leastwise without bein' ready to put 'is 'ands up."

"But weren't any of his friends there?" enquired Mrs. Bindle.

"I see two of 'em," said Bindle with a reminiscent grin. "They caught Ole Cap-an'-Whiskers jest as 'e was shinnin' up a tree--rare cove for trees 'e seems. 'Auled 'im down they did. Then 'e swore 'e'd never seen ole Guppy in all 'is puff, cried about it, 'e did."

"Peter!" muttered Mrs. Bindle.

"That 'is name?" enquired Bindle. "Any'ow it didn't 'elp 'im, for they pulled 'is whiskers out and dipped 'im in the pond, an' when last I see 'im 'e was wearin' jest a big bruise, a soft collar an' such bits of 'is trousers as the boys didn't seem to want. Made me blush it did."

"Serve him right!" cried Mrs. Bindle.

Bindle looked at her curiously. "Thought you was sort o' pals with 'im," he remarked.

"He was a traitor, a Peter betraying his master." Bindle looked puzzled, Mr. Hearty nodded his head in approval.

"Was Mr. Wayskin there?" asked Mrs. Bindle.

"The little chap with the gla.s.ses an' a beard too big for 'im, wot goes about with Ole Cap-an'-Whiskers?"

Mrs. Bindle nodded.

"Well, 'e got orf, trousers an' all," said Bindle with a grin. "Nippy little cove 'e was," he added.

"Oh, the brutes!" exclaimed Mrs. Bindle. "The cowards!"

"Well," remarked Bindle, "it all come about through 'im tryin' to give 'em treacle when they wanted curry."

"Perhaps he's gone home!" Mrs. Bindle half rose as the thought struck her.

"Who, Guppy?" interrogated Bindle.

"Yes, Mr. Gupperduck," said Mrs. Bindle eagerly.

"Guppy ain't never comin' back to my place," Bindle announced with decision.

"Where's he to sleep then?" demanded Mrs. Bindle.

"Well," remarked Bindle judicially, "by wot I last see of 'im, 'e ain't goin' to sleep much anywhere for some time"; and he again launched into a harrowing description of Mr. Gupperduck's plight when the police rescued him from the crowd.

"I'll nurse him!" announced Mrs. Bindle with the air of a Martha.

"You won't do no such thing, Mrs. B."

Even Mrs. Hearty looked at Bindle, arrested by the unwonted determination in his voice. "You jest remember this, Mrs. B.,"

continued Bindle, "if ever I catches Mr. Josiah Gupperduck, or any other cove wot loves Germans as if they was 'ymns or beer, round my place, things'll 'appen. Wot they done to 'im on the 'Eath won't be nothink to wot I'll do to 'im in Fenton Street."

"You're a brute, Bindle!" was Mrs. Bindle's comment.

"That may be; but you jest get 'is duds packed up, _includin'_ Wheezy Willie, an' give 'em to 'im when 'e calls. I ain't goin' to 'ave no German spies round my back-yard. I ain't got no money to put in tanks," Bindle added, "but I still got a fist to knock down a cove wot talks about peace." Bindle rose and yawned. "Now I'm orf. Comin', Mrs.

B.?" he enquired.

"No, I'm not. I want to talk to Mr. Hearty," said Mrs. Bindle angrily.

"Well, s'long, all!" and Bindle went out, leaving Mrs. Bindle and Mr.