"You ain't 'alf as funny as you think," retorted the girl with a toss of her head.
"If you're as funny as you look, Ruthie dear, you ought to be worth a lot to yer family," retorted Bindle.
"Where did you get that nose from?" snapped the girl pertly.
"Same place as yer got that face, only I got there first. Now run in, Ruthie, there's a good girl. I'm busy. I'm also married." The girl retired discomfited.
Later in the day the mistress of No. 129 emerged on her way to pay a call. Seeing Bindle she paused, lifted her lorgnettes, and surveyed him with cold insolence.
"Is Mrs. Rogers moving?" she asked.
"No, mum," replied Bindle, "we're goin' to take the furniture for a ride in the park."
"You're an extremely impertinent fellow," was the retort. "I shall report you to your employers."
"Please don't do that, mum; think o' me 'ungry wives an' child."
There was no further endeavour to enquire into the destination of Mrs. Rogers's possessions.
By four o'clock the last load had left—a miscellaneous mass of oddments that puzzled Bindle how he was ever going to sort them out.
It was past seven before Bindle and his m^en had finished their work. The miscellaneous things, obviously the accumulation of
