ofessor hadn't been around, there would probably have been murder done
over the Thing, or at least our little group would've split up, 'cause
none of us had the brains to figure it out.

Pete's an expert scrounger. His eyes are sharp, and he's always on the
lookout for a salable piece of goods, even if he can only get a nickel
for it. One night, we're sitting in a jungle near Sacramento, trying to
figure out whether to go north for the grapes, or south for the grapes.
They're all over California, you know, and they pay pretty well.

Pete, as usual, is out looking, and pretty soon he comes back into camp
with this thing in his hand. He handles it like it was hot, but he's
pleased he's found it, because he hopes to merchandise it. So he walks
up to me, and says, "Hey, Eddie. What'll you gimme for this, huh?"

I say, "Get that to hell away from me! I'll give you a swift kick in the
pants if you don't."

He looks real surprised. He says, "Huh, I thought maybe you could use
it."

I get up on my feet. I say, real low and careful, because maybe he's
joking, "Look, Pete--you oughtta know by this time, I _like_ my beard.
Now will you go away?"

He mooches off, looking like I'd kicked him, and goes over to the
Professor. I figure maybe the Professor could use it, so I listen. The
Prof looks like he was being offered a live rattlesnake.

"No, thanks, really, Pete. I have resolved never to touch it again. I
hope you don't mind."

Well, for some reason Pete don't look pleased, and he's real unhappy by
this time, but he tries again.

"Hey, Sacks, what'll you gimme for--"

He don't get a chance to finish. I'm only listening with half an ear,
but I'm so surprised I stand up like I been stuck with a pin. Sacks
says, "Whatinell would I do with a left shoe? You know I don't use 'em."

Pete looks at the thing in his hand, and the Prof and I go over there.

The Professor looks at the thing real carefully and speaks up. "Say,
Pete, look at that thing and tell me what it is."

"Why, it's a brand new bar of soap, of course. I don't use it, but one
of you might want to. What's all the beef about?"

"Soap?" I say. "Why, you poor fish, something must have happened to your
eyes. When you offered me that straight razor, I thought you'd gone off
your nut. Now I _know_ it."

The Professor interrupts. He looks excited. "Wait a minute, Eddie. To me
that item looks exactly like a full fifth of Old Harvester, 100 proof.
Used to be my fa