er man would have been a reluctant and
fugitive smile. Mr. Wilton, however, interpreted it as a glance of
resentment and menace. Seeing his mistake, Bindle stepped immediately
into the breach.

"'E's a bit difficult, is Ginger," he said in a loud whisper. "It sort
o' 'urts 'im to be called 'my man.' That sensitiveness of 'is 'as made
more than one widow. 'E means well, though, does Ginger, 'e jest wants
'andlin' like a wife. P'raps you ain't married yourself, sir."

Mr. Wilton drew himself up, hoping to crush Bindle by the weight of
his dignity; but Bindle had turned aside and was proceeding to attend
to his duties. Removing his coat he rolled up his shirt-sleeves and
walked to the window.

"Better take the stuff in from the top of the van," he remarked.
"It'll save Ole Calves from cleanin' the stairs. 'Ere," he called down
to Huggles, "back the van up against the window."

Mr. Wilton left the room, indicating to John that he was to stay.
Bindle and Ginger then proceeded to pile up the drawing-room furniture
in the extreme corner. They wheeled the grand pianoforte across the
room, drew from under it the carpet, which was rolled up and placed
beneath. Chairs were piled-up on top, Bindle taking great care to
place matting beneath in order to save the polish.

At the sound of the van being backed against the house, Bindle went to
the window.

"'Ere, wot the 'ell are you doin'?" he cried, looking out. "'Old 'er
up, 'old 'er up, you ole 'Uggins! D'you want to go through the
bloomin' window? Look wot you done to that tree. That'll do! Steady
on, steeeeeeeeady! You didn't ought to 'ave charge o' two goats,
'Uggles, let alone 'orses. 'Ere, come on up!"

Bindle returned to the work of making room for the bedsteads. Suddenly
he paused in front of John.

"Yes," he remarked critically, "you look pretty; but I'd love you
better if you was a bit more useful. Wot about a drink? I like a slice
of lemon in mine; but Ginger'll 'ave a split soda."

Suddenly Huggles' voice was heard from without.

"Hi, Joe!" he cried.

"'Ullo!" responded Bindle, going to the window.

"Where's the ladder?" came Huggles' question.

"Where d'you s'pose it is, 'Uggles? Why, in Wilkie's waistcoat pocket
o' course;" and Bindle left it at that.

Just as Huggles' head appeared above the window, Mr. Wilton
re-entered.

"I have telephoned to Harridges," he said. "Her ladyship's
instructions are quite clear, there seems to be no mistake."

"Ther