Bindle.
"I suppose those are the horses," remarked the same lady, indicating the animals with an inclination of her head.
"You ain't got much to learn in the way o' guessing, mum," was Bindle's cheery response.
The lady eyed him disapprovingly. Her companion at the wheel smiled. She was younger. Bindle winked at her; but she froze instantly.
"The horses that were in this van were taken ill," said the lady.
"Wot, both together, mum!" exclaimed Bindle.
"Yes," replied the lady, looking at him sharply.
"Must 'ave been twins or conchies,"[1] was Bindle's explanation of the phenomenon. "If one o' Ginger's twins 'as the measles, sure as eggs the other'll get 'em the next day. That's wot makes Ginger so ratty."
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