"Are yer? " said the Kookaburra. "Well, all I can say is that if yer don't take yer dial outer the road I'll bloomin' well take an' bounce a gibber off yer crust," and he followed them for quite a long way, singing out insulting things such as, "You with the wire whiskers," and "Get onter the bloke with the face fringe."
Bill, of course, treated this conduct with silent contempt. It was his rule through life, he said, never to fight people with beaks.
The next encounter they had was with a Flying-fox who, though not so vulgar and rude as the Kookaburra was equally enraged because, as Bill had suspicions that he was the Possum disguised, he insisted on measuring him to see if he was the same length.
"Nice goings on, indeed," said the Flying-fox, while Bill was measuring him, "if a man can't go about his business without being measured by total strangers. A nice thing, indeed, to happen to Finglebury Flying-fox, the well-known and respected fruit stealer."
However, he was found to be six inches too short, so they let him go, and he hurried off, saying, "I shall have the Law on you for this, measuring a man in a public place without being licensed as a tailor."
The third disturbance due to Bill's suspicions occurred while Bunyip Bluegum was in a grocer's shop. They had run out of tea and sugar, and happening to pass through the town of Bungledoo took the opportunity of laying in a fresh supply. If Bunyip hadn't been in the shop, as was pointed out afterwards, the trouble wouldn't have occurred. The first he heard of it was a scream of "Help, help, murder is being done!" and rushing out of the shop, what was his amazement to see no less a person than his Uncle Wattleberry bounding and plunging about the road with Bill hanging on to his whiskers, and Sam hanging on to one leg.
"I've got him," shouted Bill. "Catch a holt of his other leg and give me a chance to get his whiskers off."
"But why are you taking his whiskers off?" inquired Bunyip
Bluegum.
"Because they're stuck on with glue," shouted Bill. "I saw it at a glance. It's Watkin Wombat, Esquire, disguised as a company promoter."
"Dear me," said Bunyip, hurriedly, "you are making a mistake.
This is not a puddin'-thief, this is an Uncle."