He went up to each in turn; the first two he reminded that they were
playing "See the Conquering Hero Comes," and the third group he told
that the clash of welcome had been changed to "Auld Lang Syne." They
must start at once, as Mr. Williams was just leaving the station.
Urged by Travers the band formed up with incredible speed. Just then
Bindle emerged, with Tom Little on one side and Guggers on the other.
He was saying to Guggers:

"Look 'ere, young feller, if you can't talk without spittin' in my ear,
you just dry up."

At that second the band broke out, every man doing his utmost.
Everyone looked a little surprised, for the two melodies combined
badly. The drummer was the first to discover that something was wrong.
Recognising that the instruments round him were playing "Auld Lang
Syne" he changed the time of his thumps. Then hearing the other tune,
he paused and with inspiration finished up by trying to combine the two
melodies by putting in thumps from both.

Some of the Conquering Heroes stopped and became Auld Lang Syners,
whilst several Auld Lang Syners went over to the enemy. It was
pandemonium.

"What's up wi' the band?" enquired Bindle. "Sounds like a Crystal
Palace competition; I 'ope nothink busts."

Still the band went on.

"Gawd Almighty! wot's that?" Bindle's eyes dilated with something like
horror at the sight of a huge brown shape sitting on the box of the
carriage. He stopped as if electrified.

"That," said Tom Little, "is a kangaroo. Your national animal."

"Me national wot?" said Bindle.

"The national animal of Australia."

"Oh!" said Bindle, keeping a wary eye on the beast, whose tail hung
down into the body of the carriage. "Well, I'm jiggered! It looks
like a circus," he muttered. "Look at them 'osses!" he exclaimed,
pointing with the hand that held the cigar to the steeds which had just
caught his eye. "Look at them 'osses!"

Bindle eventually entered the carriage with Reginald Graves on his left
hand, Dick Little and Travers opposite. Guggers had intended to sit
opposite also, but Bindle had asked in a whisper which nobody failed to
hear:

"'Ere, can't yer put that syphon somewhere else? 'E'll soak me to the
skin."

Amid cheers the procession started. The band, which had a few minutes
before blown itself to silence, was now devoting itself
enthusiastically to "The Washington Post." On the box the kangaroo,
known in private life as Horace Trent, the cox o