ed belt,
and unlaced the soldierly leggings. The emblemed coat came off
carefully. The khaki shirt followed. Last of all, having slipped his
feet out of the wonderful shoes, he pulled off the trousers, and stood,
a pathetic little figure, in an old undershirt of Grandpa's, the sleeves
of which he had shortened, and a pair of Grandpa's underdrawers,
similarly cut--to knee length.

Barber stared at the underclothes. "Who said y' could wear my old man's
things?" he asked.

"N--nobody."

"They're too small for Grandpa," declared Cis, stoutly. "Johnnie might
as well wear them. If he didn't, I'd throw them away, or use them for
dishcloths."

Barber did not notice the girl. "Nobody," he repeated. "But y' go ahead
and use the scissors on 'em!"

"Your shirts 're so big," reminded Johnnie; "and the pants, too. And if
I didn't wear nothin', why, I'd dirty the new uniform, wearin' it next
my skin, and so----"

"Fold that truck up!" came the next command.

Under Grandpa's old, torn undershirt, Johnnie's heart began to beat so
hard that he could hear it. But quietly and dutifully he folded each
dear article, and placed all, one upon another, neatly, the hat topping
the pile. Finished, he stood waiting, and his whole body trembled with a
chill that was not from cold or fear, but from apprehension. Oh, what
was about to happen to his treasured uniform?

Cis was silent now, refraining from angering Big Tom at a time when it
was possible for him to vent his rage on Johnnie's belongings. But she
watched him breathlessly as he rose and went to the table, and reached
to take the books.

"So y' keep 'em upstairs?" he said to Johnnie.

"Yes, sir,"--it was a whisper.

"She's accommodatin', ain't she, the old lady?"

"She--she--yes."

"A-a-ah!" The longshoreman placed the books atop the olive-drab hat,
crushing it flat with their weight.

"Oh! Oh, don't hurt 'em!" pleaded Johnnie. He put out a hand.

"Oh, I won't hurt 'em," answered Big Tom. But his tone was far from
reassuring.

"I won't ever read 'em 'cept nights," promised the boy. "Honest, Mister
Barber! And y' know y' like me t' read good. When--when Mister Maloney
was here, why, y' liked it. And y' can lock 'em all away in the bedroom
if y' don't b'lieve me!"

Big Tom leered down at him. "Oh, I'll lock 'em up, all right," he said.
"I'll do it up so brown that there won't be no more danger o' this scout
business 'round the place, and no more readin'." With that, he