“Old, just as you remarked, Scotty,” observed Jack, “and used a long time. It must have slipped out of his pocket when he worked your stuff over to mix it up like the devil.”
“Open it up and see what the blessed chump left me in place of his card,” the other continued, looking exceedingly proud over his lucky find.
Jack did that with alacrity; in fact it was what he intended doing, for reasons of his own; something more than curiosity influencing him, it would appear.
“Gee whiz! a neat little bunch of the needful, I’d say, Scotty, old hoss!” burst out the envious Perk, his eyes fixed full upon the contents of the much worn pocketbook, which Jack was holding in his hand and apparently interested in counting, for there were a number of bank notes for various amounts, and among them just three five-dollar bills, seemingly quite fresh, though a bit soiled, as though they had been in circulation.
“Nineteen smackers in all,” announced Perk, showing that he had also been keeping tabs on the count. “Well, wouldn’t that knock you cold though? Huh? that same caller must’ve been looking for me, and just missed connections by striking the next door. Well, here’s wishing you the same old luck every time a sneak thief pays you a visit, Scotty boy.”
Jack on his part was feeling of the three five-dollar bills, and holding them up to the light from the western sun that managed to come into the hangar by way of the open doors.
“What ails you, Jack?” demanded the recipient of Fortune’s smiles, as he noticed these strange actions on the part of his new friend.
“Nothing much,” he was told, “only I’m going to give you a bit of advice, partner, if you don’t mind.”
“Go to it, boy; always willing to take it when it seems sound!” snapped the mail carrier, briskly enough, still more than curious.
“If you’re wise, Scotty,” went on Jack, smilingly, “you’ll not try to pass any one of these five-dollar bills until you’ve asked the opinion of some bank teller—it might get you into trouble.”