"Goats!" queried Bindle.
"Sell the milk," was Ginger's laconic explanation.
"They might 'ave been billy-goats," suggested Bindle.
Ginger swore.
"Well, well!" remarked Bindle, as he rose, "you ain't never goin' to be 'appy in this world, Ging, an' as to the next—who knows! Now I must be orf to tell Mrs. B. wot they been a-doin' to 'er lodger. S'long!"
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.