"It pinched my foot, or you wouldn't have got it so easy," muttered Sube; "but let me tell you one thing, Mr. Gizzard--I get my pick of all the rest of the men's shoes we take in." Gizzard felt that he could afford to be generous. "Sure you do," he assented readily. "But I can tell you that there won't be nuthin' to compare with these good ol' cloth-tops," he added as he finished buttoning the shoe which he had just put on, and began strutting up and down before Sube in a most tantalizing way. This was too much for Sube, who stood up and pretended to yawn as he said, "Well, you better be gettin' 'em off so's we can go on collectin' things." "Gettin' 'em off?" demanded Gizzard with an offended air. "I don't think I'll be gettin' 'em off. I'm goin' to wear 'em!" "Wear those lookin' things in public?" sneered Sube. "Well, if you do, you'll go collectin' alone. _I_ won't go with you." "You bet I'll go alone," said Gizzard. "And we'll soon see who it is that gets all the best things." And he shuffled out of the barn and went his way. "Remember, now," Sube called after him, "I get my first pick of _all_ the men's shoes no matter who brings 'em in." Gizzard nodded his head several times and started in an easterly direction. As soon as Sube saw which way Gizzard had gone, he picked up the slumber-robe and started in the opposite direction. He went by the most direct route to the home of one Achilles Whitney, a gentleman constructed on the lines of a white hope. But here he met with complete failure and withdrew empty handed. Next he tried the residence of Mr. Silas Peck, an ex-sheriff and a man of some weight; but here he acquired nothing but an old derby hat and a quantity of feminine apparel, which he had now come to regard somewhat lightly. His next stopping place was the door of Oliver Lyman, Esquire, another gentleman of Goliathic size. Here, as in other places visited by him alone, he made a special plea for men's shoes for the "sufferin' barefooted Belgiums" and he nearly died of joy when he saw the size of the pair the generous Mrs. Lyman handed out to him. He hurried back to headquarters at once, and there Gizzard found him a few minutes later, most fetchingly attired. Sube had put on the pool-room suit and red vest, and in order to display the vest to the greatest advantage he had thrust his hands deep in the pants pockets. Gizzard was beginning to think that perhaps he had overlooked a bet on the suit, when he suddenly caught sight of the shoes. He stopped in his tracks and stood as if transfixed, motionless and speechless, while Sube was bustling around arranging some of the merchandise. And in spite of the mammoth size of the shoes he had on, Sube walked gracefully--almost naturally. But there was a reason for this; he had been foresighted enough to put Mr. Lyman's shoes on over his own. Yet how was Gizzard expected to know that?