Pete's an expert scrounger. His eyes are sharp, and he's always on the lookout for a salable piece of goods, even if he can only get a nickel for it. One night, we're sitting in a jungle near Sacramento, trying to figure out whether to go north for the grapes, or south for the grapes. They're all over California, you know, and they pay pretty well.
Pete, as usual, is out looking, and pretty soon he comes back into camp with this thing in his hand. He handles it like it was hot, but he's pleased he's found it, because he hopes to merchandise it. So he walks up to me, and says, "Hey, Eddie. What'll you gimme for this, huh?"
I say, "Get that to hell away from me! I'll give you a swift kick in the pants if you don't."
He looks real surprised. He says, "Huh, I thought maybe you could use it."
I get up on my feet. I say, real low and careful, because maybe he's joking, "Look, Pete—you oughtta know by this time, I like my beard. Now will you go away?"
He mooches off, looking like I'd kicked him, and goes over to the Professor. I figure maybe the Professor could use it, so I listen. The Prof looks like he was being offered a live rattlesnake.
"No, thanks, really, Pete. I have resolved never to touch it again. I hope you don't mind."
Well, for some reason Pete don't look pleased, and he's real unhappy by this time, but he tries again.
"Hey, Sacks, what'll you gimme for—"
He don't get a chance to finish. I'm only listening with half an ear, but I'm so surprised I stand up like I been stuck with a pin. Sacks says, "Whatinell would I do with a left shoe? You know I don't use 'em."