Only a day or two later Billy had occasion to remember what Tom Murphy had said about the nails in his shoes.
In spite of all his efforts to grow broad, Billy was growing taller and slimmer every day. His legs were getting so long and his trousers so short, that Billy was beginning to wish that he could have some new clothes. But that wasn’t his greatest worry.
There generally is one worry on top. This time it was shoes. They were growing short, but, worse than that, the sole of the right one was beginning to look as if it were coming off at the toe.
He and Aunt Mary looked at it every morning, for she hadn’t quite money enough for a new pair. Uncle John still made Billy put his money in the bank—“Against a rainy day,” Uncle John said.
Billy had tried, as hard as he could, to favor his right shoe. Of course he couldn’t walk quite even: it made him hop a little. But he had only two days more to wait, and he thought that he could manage it.
Probably he would have succeeded, if it hadn’t happened that Mr. Prescott needed some change. He told Billy to “sprint” to the bank for three rolls of dimes and two rolls of nickels.
Billy made good time on his way to the bank, handed in his five-dollar bill, took his five rolls of money, and started back.
He made good time on his way back until he reached the bridge, about three minutes’ walk from the mill gate. Then he hit a board that had been put on as a patch, and off came that right sole, so that it went flop—flop—flop.
He had to hold his feet very high in order to walk at all; but he flopped along, until he stubbed his left toe and fell down flat.
The fall was so hard that it threw one roll of dimes out of his pocket. Just as he had stretched out till he almost had the roll, it began to turn over and over, and went off the edge of the bridge into the river. Billy saw it go.