Adventures of Bindle

by Herbert George Jenkins

  CHAPTER XI

  THE CAMOUFLAGING OF MR. GUPPERDUCK

  I

  "Ah!" cried Bindle as he pushed open one of the swing doors of thepublic bar of The Yellow Ostrich. "I thought I should find my littlesunflower 'ere," and he grasped the hand that Ginger did not extend tohim. Demonstration was not Ginger's strong point.

  The members of the informal club that used to meet each Friday nightat The Scarlet Horse had become very uncertain in their attendance,and the consequent diminution in the consumption of liquor had causedthe landlord to withdraw the concession of a private-room.

  Bindle had accepted the situation philosophically; but Ruddy Bill hadshown temper. In the public bar he had told the landlord what hethought of him, finishing up a really inspired piece of decoratedrhetoric with "Yus, it's The Scarlet 'Orse all right; but there's aruddy donkey behind the bar," and with that he had marched out.

  From that date Bindle's leisure moments had been mostly spent in thebar of The Yellow Ostrich. It was here that Ginger, when free from hismilitary duties, would seek Bindle and the two or three congenialspirits that gathered round him. Wilkes would cough, Huggles grin, andGinger spit vindictive disapproval of everyone and everything, whilst"Ole Joe told the tale."

  "There are times," remarked Bindle, when he had taken a long pull athis tankard, "when I feel I could almost thank Gawd for not bein'religious." He paused to light his pipe.

  Ginger murmured something that might have been taken either as aninterrogation or a protest.

  "I jest been 'avin' a stroll on Putney 'Eath," continued Bindle,settling himself down comfortably in the corner of a bench. "I likesto give the gals a treat now an' then, and who d'you think I sawthere?" He paused impressively, Ginger shook his head, Huggles grinnedand Wilkes coughed, Wilkes was always coughing.

  "Clever lot o' coves you are," said Bindle as he regarded the three."Grand talkers, ain't you. Well, well! to get on with the story.

  "There was a big crowd, makin' an 'ell of a row, they was, an' therein the middle was a cove talkin' an' wavin' 'is arms like flappers. Soup I goes, thinkin' 'e was sellin' somethink to prove that you 'aven'tgot a liver, an' who should it turn out to be but my lodger, OleGuppy."

  "Wot was 'e doin'?" gasped Wilkes between two paroxysms.

  "Well," continued Bindle, "at that particular moment I got up, 'e wastalkin' about wot a fine lot o' chaps them 'Uns is, an' wot an awfullot of Aunt Maudies we was. Sort o' 'urt 'is feelin's, it did to know'e was an Englishman when 'e might 'ave been an 'Un. 'E was jesta-sayin' somethink about Mr. Llewellyn John, when 'e' disappearssudden-like, and then there was a rare ole scrap.

  "When the police got 'im out, Lord, 'e was a sight! Never thought tenminutes could change a cove so, and that, Ginger, all comes aboutthrough being a Christian and talkin' about peace to people wot don'twant peace."

  "We all want peace." Ginger stuck out his chin aggressively.

  "Ginger!" there was reproach in Bindle's voice, "an' you a soldiertoo, I'm surprised at you!"

  "I want this ruddy war to end," growled Ginger. "I don't 'old wivwar," he added as an after-thought.

  "Now wot does it matter to you, Ging, whether you're a-carrin' a packor a piano on your back?"

  "Why don't they make peace?" burst out Ginger irrelevantly.

  "Oh, Ginger, Ginger! when shall I teach you that the only way to stopa fight is to sit on the other cove's chest: an' we ain't sittin' onGermany's chest yet. Got it?"

  "But they're willing to make peace," growled Ginger. "I don't 'old wiv'angin' back."

  "Now you jest listen to me. Why didn't you make peace last week withPincher Nobbs instead o' fightin' 'im?"

  "'E's a ruddy tyke, 'e is," snarled Ginger.

  "Well," remarked Bindle, "you can call the Germans ruddy tykes.Pleasant way you got o' puttin' things, 'aven't you, Ging? No; oleson, this 'ere war ain't a-goin' to end till you got the V.C., that'swot we're 'oldin' out for."

  "They could make peace if they liked," persisted Ginger.

  "You won't get Llewellyn John to give in, Ging," said Bindleconfidently. "'E's 'ot stuff, 'e is."

  "Yus!" growled Ginger savagely. "All 'e's got to do is to stay at 'omean' read about wot us chaps are doin' out there."

  "Now ain't you a regular ole yellow-'eaded 'Uggins," remarked Bindlewith conviction, as he gazed fixedly at Ginger, whose eyes shiftedabout restlessly. "Why, 'e's always at work, 'e is. Don't even 'ave'is dinner-hour, 'e don't."

  "Wot!" Ginger's incredulity gave expression to his features. "Nodinner-hour?"

  "No; nor breakfast-time neither," continued Bindle. "There's always alot o' coves 'angin' round a-wantin' to talk about the war an' wot todo next. When 'e's shavin' Haig'll ring 'im up, 'im a-standin' withthe lather on, makin' 'is chin 'itch."

  Ginger banged down his pewter on the counter and ordered another.

  "Then sometimes, when 'e's gettin' up in the mornin', George Five'llnip round for a jaw, and o' course kings can go anywhere, an' youmustn't keep 'em waitin'. So up 'e goes, an' there's L.J. a-talkin' to'imself as 'e tries to get into 'is collar, an' George Five a-'elpin'to find 'is collar-stud when 'e drops it an' it rolls under the chesto' drawers."

  Ginger continued to gaze at Bindle with surprise stamped on hisfreckled face.

  "You got a kid's job to 'is, Ging," continued Bindle, warming to hissubject. "If Llewellyn John 'ops round the corner for a drink an' to'ave a look at the papers, they're after 'im in two ticks. Why 'e's'ad to give up 'is 'ot bath on Saturday nights because 'e was alwayscatchin' cold through nippin' out into the 'all to answer thetelephone, 'im in only a smile an' 'is whiskers."

  Ginger spat, indecision marking the act.

  "Works like a blackleg, 'e does, an' all 'e gets is blackguardin'.No," added Bindle solemnly, "don't you never change jobs with 'im,Ging, it 'ud kill you, it would really."

  "I don't 'old wiv war," grumbled Ginger, falling back upon his mainline of defence. "Look at the price of beer!" He gazed moodily intothe depths of his empty pewter.

  "Funny cove you are, Ging," said Bindle pleasantly.

  Ginger spat viciously, missing the spittoon by inches.

  "There ain't no pleasin' you," continued Bindle, digging into the bowlof his pipe with a match stick. "You ain't willin' to die for yourcountry, an' you don't seem to want to live for the twins."

  "Wot's the use o' twins?" demanded Ginger savagely. "Now if they'dbeen goats----"

  "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' tobe 'appy in this world, Ging, an' as to the next--who knows! Now Imust 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 hishand 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 poulticewhere 'is face ought to be. Where's Millikins?" he demanded, lookinground.

  "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 withaggravating deliberation. "It ought to 'ave been a peace-meetin',accordin' to plan; but some'ow or other things sort o' got mixed. Iain't seen a scrap like it since that little bust-up in the countrywhen 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 welldown over the bowl. "I see 'im bein' taken orf on a stretcher, an' wot'e was wear
in' 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 thatmeeting myself." Mr. Hearty made the statement as if Providence hadinterposed with the deliberate object of saving his life.

  "Lucky for you, 'Earty, that you didn't," remarked Bindlesignificantly. "You ain't no good at scrappin'. Well, I'll tell youwot '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 peoplewot 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 throughthis '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 Guppymore'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 crowdsin this 'ere country without runnin' risks." Bindle spoke withconviction.

  "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 thingswot 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 caughtOle Cap-an'-Whiskers jest as 'e was shinnin' up a tree--rare cove fortrees 'e seems. 'Auled 'im down they did. Then 'e swore 'e'd neverseen 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 theypulled 'is whiskers out and dipped 'im in the pond, an' when last Isee 'im 'e was wearin' jest a big bruise, a soft collar an' such bitsof 'is trousers as the boys didn't seem to want. Made me blush itdid."

  "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 lookedpuzzled, Mr. Hearty nodded his head in approval.

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

  "The little chap with the glasses an' a beard too big for 'im, wotgoes about with Ole Cap-an'-Whiskers?"

  Mrs. Bindle nodded.

  "Well, 'e got orf, trousers an' all," said Bindle with a grin. "Nippylittle 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 struckher.

  "Who, Guppy?" interrogated Bindle.

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

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

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

  "Well," remarked Bindle judicially, "by wot I last see of 'im, 'eain't goin' to sleep much anywhere for some time"; and he againlaunched into a harrowing description of Mr. Gupperduck's plight whenthe 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 unwonteddetermination in his voice. "You jest remember this, Mrs. B.,"continued Bindle, "if ever I catches Mr. Josiah Gupperduck, or anyother cove wot loves Germans as if they was 'ymns or beer, round myplace, things'll 'appen. Wot they done to 'im on the 'Eath won't benothink 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'_ WheezyWillie, an' give 'em to 'im when 'e calls. I ain't goin' to 'ave noGerman spies round my back-yard. I ain't got no money to put intanks," Bindle added, "but I still got a fist to knock down a cove wottalks 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.Hearty to mourn over the fallen Hector.

  A minute later the door half opened and Bindle thrust his head roundthe corner. "Don't forget, Mrs. B.," he said with a grin, "if I seeGuppy in Fenton Street, I'll camelflage 'im, I will;" and with that hewas gone.

  "I suppose," he remarked meditatively as he walked across PutneyBridge, "wot 'appened to-night is wot Guppy 'ud call 'the peace wotpasses all understandin'.'"