"See here," said the latter, "I want to do a tramp act."
"Sure you do!" Burke promptly acquiesced.
"Can you find me some ragged trousers and an old coat and cap? The worse they look, the better I'll like it. And while you're about it, get me some worn-out shoes or boots. How soon can you have them here?"
"I—I dunno." Burke was looking somewhat overwhelmed. "You're pretty big," he mentioned. "Nothin' o' mine 'd fit you."
"Great Scott!" exploded the other. "I don't want 'em to fit! I'm not going to a pink tea in them."
"But you want to get 'em on, don't you?" Burke demanded, with some coldness.
"I do."
"Well, look at yerself; young fella, and then look at me."
Laurie obeyed the latter part of the injunction. The father of seven was at least five inches shorter than he, and his legs and shoulders were small in proportion. No coat or trousers he wore could possibly go on the young Hercules before him.
"Oh, well," urged the latter, impatiently, "get some, somewhere. Here. Take a run into town. Use my car if you like. Or go to some one you know who's about my size. Only, mum's the word."