Sube shook his head hopelessly. "Dern'd if I know," he muttered. "Where'd you put it?" "Up there." Sube pointed to the place over the door where he had hidden the candle the night they started for the Mexican border. "Want to see it?" "Not on your life I don't. I don't want nuthin' to do with it!" Sube sighed. It seemed as if his troubles would never end. "Well," he said finally, "we might as well be takin' this stuff back." "You know where it all goes?" asked Gizzard. Sube poked the pile of clothing with his foot. "That pink one's Miss Mandeville's, and that blue and white thing b'longs to Hubbell's. Where'd that green sweater come from? _You_ brought that in." And so they went on for some time. They sorted out and put in one pile all articles that they were able to identify. The others were left in a heterogeneous mass that was a good deal of a problem to them until they happened to think of some rubbish-barrels a short distance up the alley. And there the second-hand man found them a few days later. The boys had not been specifically instructed as to what explanation was to be made to the property owners at the time of making restitution, so they took that matter into their own hands. The formula adopted was something like this: "There was a mistake made about some of these things, and the committee asked us to bring them back and say thank you very much." And the messenger dashed away without waiting long enough for any complications to arise. But throughout the period of restoration, the lemon-colored shoes had been conspicuously absent. Sube did not overlook this fact, but he was a little sensitive about speaking of the matter for fear of causing Gizzard undue embarrassment. And, doubtless for the same reason, Gizzard forebore making any comment about the absence of the shoes last seen on Sube at the time of the auction. Perhaps each partner assumed that the other had gone by himself and made restoration. But in any event, neither the one pair nor the other was ever seen in public again. But in a little cubby-hole above the barn-door was something not so easily disposed of. It made no sound; it had no perceptible odor; and yet, every time the boys went into the barn they were reminded of it. Twenty dollars and seventeen cents has more ways than one to make its presence known. Sube treated it with supreme indifference; he would not so much as glance up at the hiding-place. But Gizzard was more impressionable, for suddenly he cried out: "I wisht the dern stuff was in Halifax!" "I wisht it was," muttered Sube; "but it ain't. And it's a lot of money." "It's more'n I ever want to see again!" exclaimed Gizzard warmly. After a moment of silence he cried, "Hey, Sube, why not give it to the Sunday School?"