r says 'e don't object. I
persuaded 'im that you're old enough to know your own mind."

Millie jumped up and ran to Bindle.

"Oh, Uncle Joe, you darling!" she cried.

"Yes, ain't I? that's wot all the ladies tell me, Millikins. Makes
your Aunt Lizzie so cross, it does."

"'Ullo, Martha!" he cried. "'Ope you got a pretty dress for next
Toosday. A weddin', wot'o! Now I must be orf. There's a rare lot o'
burglars in Fulham, an' when they 'ears I'm out, Lord! they runs 'ome
like bunnies to their 'utches. Good night, 'Earty; cheer-o, Martha!
Give us a kiss, Millikins;" and Bindle went out, shown to the door by
Millie.

"Oh, Uncle Joe, you're absolutely wonderful! I think you could do
anything in the world," she said.

"I wonder," muttered Bindle, as he walked off, "if they'll charge me
up with that little fairy tale I told 'Earty."

CHAPTER XV

A BILLETING ADVENTURE

"Some'ow or other, Ginger, I feel I'm goin' to 'ave quite an 'appy
day."

Bindle proceeded to light his pipe with the care of a man to whom
tobacco means both mother and wife.

"I don't 'old wiv playin' the fool like you do, Joe," grumbled Ginger.
"It only gets you the sack."

Bindle and Ginger were seated comfortably on the tail-board of a
pantechnicon bearing the famous name of Harridge's Stores. Ginger had
a few days' leave, which he was spending in voluntarily helping his
mates with their work.

As they rumbled through Putney High Street, Bindle from time to time
winked at a girl, or exchanged some remark with a male passer-by.

For the wounded soldiers taking their morning constitutional he had
always a pleasant word.

"'Ullo, matey, 'ow goes it?" he would cry.

"Cheerio!" would come back the reply.

"Look at 'em, Ging, without legs an' arms," Bindle cried, "an'
laughin' like 'ell. There ain't much wrong with a country wot can
breed that sort o' cove."

From the top of the pantechnicon could be heard Wilkes's persistent
cough, whilst Huggles was in charge of the "ribbons."

As they reached the foot of Putney Hill, Bindle slipped off the
tail-board, calling to Ginger to do likewise and to Wilkes to come
down, "to save the 'orses."

"I don't 'old wiv' walkin' to save 'orses," grumbled Ginger. "I'm
tired o' bein' on my feet."

"You ain't so tired o' bein' on your feet," remarked Bindle, "as Gawd
is of 'earin' o' the things wot you don't 'old with, Ging. Now, orf
you come, ole sport!"

Ginger slowly slid off the tail of t