ome 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?"

Sube shook his head. The impropriety of giving tainted money to the
church occurred to him at once, but Gizzard's suggestion to give it away
had put an idea into his mind. "What's the reason we can't send it back
to the gover'ment?" he asked. "We could put it in an envelope and mail
it to the President."

"What's the President got to do with it?" demanded Gizzard.

"Well, the gover'ment _made_ it, didn't it? And the President's the same
as the gover'ment, ain't he?"

In common with a number of other people, Gizzard was not sure about
this. He said he would have to ask his father. And at