"Here!" said the girl.

"Not you!"

It seemed to him that this would somehow further degrade him. At least
another male should fasten this infamous thing about him. When the
buttoning was done he demanded the promised candy and lemon. He glutted
himself with the stimulant. He had sold his soul and was taking the
price. His wrists projected far from the gingham sleeves, and in truth
he looked little enough like a girl. The girl looked much more like a
boy. The further price of his shame was paid in full.

"I'd better take charge of it," said Merle, and did so with an air of
large benevolence. "I just don't know what all we'll spend it for," he
added.

The Wilbur twin's look of anguish deepened.

"I got a pocket in this dress to hold my money," he suggested.

"You might lose it," objected Merle. "I better keep it for us."

The girl had transferred her remaining money to the pockets which, as a
boy, she now possessed. Then she tried on the cap. But it proved to be
the cap of Merle.

"No; you must take Wilbur's cap," he said, "because you got his
clothes."

"And he can wear my hat," said the girl.