Bindle gave vent to a prolonged whistle of understanding.
"Oh, Guppy, Guppy!" he cried. "Why couldn't you 'ave kept to the next world, without getting mixed up with this?"
"It was wounded soldiers," volunteered the man with the sandy beard.
"Wounded soldiers!" exclaimed Bindle.
"Yes," continued the man mournfully; "he appealed to them, as sufferers under this terrible armageddon, to pass a resolution condemning the continuance of the war, and—and——"
"They passed their resolution on 'is face," suggested Bindle.
The man nodded. "It was terrible," he said, "terrible; we were afraid they would kill him."
"And where was you while all this was 'appenin'?"
"Oh!" said the man, "I was fortunate enough to find a tree."
Bindle looked him up and down with elaborate intentness, then having satisfied himself as to every detail of his appearance and apparel, he remarked: