"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 scrap 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 scrappin'. 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."