m sure she wouldn't like me to
do it. I can't let you have it unless you get her to say she wants me
to."

Thus advised, the unfortunate made another appeal to his mother the next
day, and, having brought about no relaxation of the situation, again
petitioned his father, on the following evening. So it went; the torn
and driven William turning from parent to parent; and surely, since the
world began, the special sum of three dollars and sixty cents has never
been so often mentioned in any one house and in the same space of time
as it was in the house of the Baxters during Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday,
and Thursday of that oppressive week.

But on Friday William disappeared after breakfast and did not return to
lunch.

XXIV

CLOTHES MAKE THE MAN

Mrs. Baxter was troubled. During the afternoon she glanced often from
the open window of the room where she had gone to sew, but the peaceful
neighborhood continued to be peaceful, and no sound of the harassed
footsteps of William echoed from the pavement. However, she saw Genesis
arrive (in his weekday costume) to do some weeding, and Jane immediately
skip forth for mingled purposes of observation and conversation.

"What DO they say?" thought Mrs. Baxter, observing that both Jane and
Genesis were unusually animated. But for once that perplexity was to be
dispersed. After an exciting half-hour Jane came flying to her mother,
breathless.

"Mamma," she cried, "I know where Willie is! Genesis told me, 'cause he
saw him, an' he talked to him while he was doin' it."

"Doing what? Where?"

"Mamma, listen! What you think Willie's doin'? I bet you can't g--"

"Jane!" Mrs Baxter spoke sharply. "Tell me what Genesis said, at once."

"Yes'm. Willie's sittin' in a lumber-yard that Genesis comes by on his
way from over on the avynoo where all the colored people live--an' he's
countin' knot-holes in shingles."

"He is WHAT?"

"Yes'm. Genesis knows all about it, because he was thinkin' of doin'
it himself, only he says it would be too slow. This is the way it is,
mamma. Listen, mamma, because this is just exackly the way it is. Well,
this lumber-yard man got into some sort of a fuss because he bought
millions an' millions of shingles, mamma, that had too many knots in,
an' the man don't want to pay for 'em, or else the store where he bought
'em won't take 'em back, an' they got to prove how many shingles are
bad shingles, or somep'm, an' anyway, mamma, that's what Willie'