an' that string of shoes just whirled around like a kite-tail, an' at
last the bottom pair flew off into the street. An' I picked 'em up."

"Findin's is keepin's," said Mrs. Kimper.

"Give me them shoes, my boy," said the ex-convict.

"You're goin' to take 'em away from me? Have I got to have cold feet
some more?" said Billy, appealingly.

Sam thrust his hand into his trousers-pocket, took out a very thin wad
of green paper, looked at it, and finally said, "No, I s'pose not."
Nevertheless he and the shoes disappeared from the house.

In a short time Mr. Price, the owner of one of the village stores,
received a call from the ex-convict, who said,--

"Mr. Price, one o' my boys found a pair o' shoes in the street in front
o' your store this afternoon durin' the hard blow, an', as they just
fitted him, I came around to pay you for them. How much are they?"

Several men were standing about the stove in Price's store, the fire
having just started for the autumn and winter season, and, as they
heard Sam's remark, one of them uttered a long combination of word and
whistle that sounded very much like "Whew-w?" Sam turned quickly,
recognized the man as one whom he knew to be not over-honest, and
said,--

"When _you_ pay for ev'rythin' you get it'll be time to make fun of
somebody else. But, Mr. Price, what I asked you was, what's the price