he grass near the kitchen door, where Gizzard joined him a
short time later.

"Now, what do you know about that, Giz?" growled Sube, as Gizzard jumped
up and caught a limb of the apple tree and started to skin the cat.
"They went and gave away my Wild West hat."

Although the cat was only partially skinned, Gizzard delayed the
operation long enough to remark that it was no great loss anyway.

"I guess you don't know the hat I mean," returned Sube warmly. "I mean
the hat that Buffalo Bill wore in the Indian fight, and got a
bullet-hole through!"

Gizzard dropped to the ground. "If you mean that ol' felt hat you found
on the Fair Grounds the day after the circus," he said without mercy, "I
know _that_ one."

The authenticity of this hat had long been disputed; and even now, after
it was gone, Gizzard was unwilling to concede to it any of the virtues
with which Sube's imagination had clothed it. And in addition to this,
Gizzard had grievances of his own. The solicitors had by no means passed
him by.

"You needn't think you're the only one," he complained. "My mother went
and give away the best pair of ol' pants I had. She gave 'em to the
sufferin' Belgiums."

"Huh!" snorted Sube disdainfully. "Nothin' but an ol' pair of pants!
What's an ol' pair of pants, anyway? Everybody's got an ol' pair of
pants to give away; but let me tell you they won't get another genuwine
hat that Buffalo Bill wore with a hole shot through!"

But the former occupant of the pants refused to have them lightly
treated. "Let me tell you that them pants wasn't to be sneezed at!" he
retorted. "They was the best _ol'_ pants I ever had. You never seen such
pockets in your life--great big, deep fellers, and a little secret
money-pocket--"

Reference to this secret pocket reminded Sube of something. "You mean
those gray pants with the buckle on the back and all the suspender
buttons on 'em?" he interrupted.

"Yep, the very ones," replied Gizzard, pleased that his apparel should
have made such an impression on his friends. "'Member 'em?"

"You bet I remember 'em!" cried Sube enthusiastically. "That's the pair
we used to sing the song about--'Papa's Pants Will Soon Fit Gizzie!'"

"Well," returned Gizzard defiantly, "they wasn't an ol' felt hat that a
horse had stepped on, anyway."

The allusion was somewhat pointed, but Sube did not follow the matter
up. Instead, he asked amicably, "Who did the beggin' over to your
house?"

"A couple of lad