responsible for what had occurred.

"I'll think the matter over," he remarked. "In the meantime Brooks is
away, Mr. Colter is ill, and Jameson hasn't turned up this morning, and
we have that move in West Kensington to get through during the day. Do
you think that you can be responsible for it?"

"Sure of it, sir. I been in the perfession, man and boy, all me life."

The West London Furniture Depository made a specialty of moving
clients' furniture whilst they were holiday-making. They undertook to
set out the rooms in the new house exactly as they had been in the old,
with due allowance for a changed geography.

"Here is the specification," said the manager, handing to Bindle a
paper. "Now how will you set to work?"

"'Five bed, two reception, one study, one kitchen, one nursery,'" read
Bindle. "Two vans'll do it, sir. Best bedroom, servant's.
dinin'-room, No. 1; second bedroom, drawin'-room, No. 2; two bedrooms
and kitchen No. 3, and the rest No. 4. Then you see we shan't get 'em
mixed."

The manager nodded approvingly.

"Do you think you could replace the furniture?"

"Sure as I am o' Mrs. Bindle. I can carry an 'ole 'ouse in me eye;
they won't know they've even moved."

"The keys are at the West Kensington Police Station. Here is the
authority, with a note from me. It's No. 181 Branksome Road you're to
fetch the furniture from. Here's the key of the house you are to take
it to--No. 33 Lebanon Avenue, Chiswick. Take Nos. 6 and 8 vans, with
Wilkes, Huggles, Randers, and the new man."

"Right, sir," said Bindle; "I'll see it through."

Bindle returned to the yard, where he narrated to his mates what had
just taken place in the manager's room.

"So yer see, Ginger, I'm still goin' to stay wi' yer, correct yer
language an' make a gentleman o' yer. So cheer up, 'Appy."

Bindle gathered together his forces and set out. He was glad to be
able to include Ginger, whose misanthropic outlook upon life was a
source of intense interest to him. Outside the police-station he
stepped off the tail-board of the front van, saying that he would
overtake them.

"Come to give yourself up?" enquired the sergeant, who had a slight
acquaintance with Bindle.

"Not yet, ole sport; goin' to give yer a chance to earn promotion. I
come for a key."

Bindle handed in his credentials.

At that moment two constables entered with a drunken woman screaming
obscenities. The men had all they could do to hold her.