And the girl did even so, holding up to him riches beyond the dreams of
avarice. There was bitterness in the eyes of the Wilbur twin even as
they gloated on the bribe. The ordeal would be fearful. He was to become
a thing--not a girl and still not a boy--a thing somehow shameful. At
last the alternative came to him.

"You change with her," he said, brightening. "My pants got a tear here
on the side, and my waist ain't so clean as yours."

"Now don't begin that!" said his brother, firmly. "We don't want a lot
of silly arguments about it, do we? Look at all the money we'll have!"

"Your clothes are the best," said the girl. "I must be filthy and
ragged. Oh, please hurry!" Then to Merle: "Do unbutton my waist. Start
it at the top and I can finish."

Gingerly he undid the earliest buttons on that narrow back of checked
gingham, and swiftly the girl completed the process to her waist. Then
the waist was off her meagre shoulders and she stepped from the hated
garment. The Wilbur twin was aghast at her downright methods. He had a
feeling that she should have retired for this change. How was he to know
that an emergency had lifted her above prejudices sacred to the meaner
souled? But now he raised a new objection, for beneath her gown the girl
had been still abundantly and intricately clad, girded, harnessed.

"I can't ever put on all those other things," he declared, indicating
the elaborate underdressing.

"Very well, I'll keep 'em on under the pants and waist till I get to the