“Only a minute, to say good-by to little Bobby Halstead. He was playing around there, and he’s such a cunning little chap.”
“Bobby! I’ve an idea! Now you stay right here till I come back! Don’t you move!”
Betty flew into the house and went in search of four-year-old Bobby. She found him in his nursery, mounted upon his black hobby-horse.
“Tell me, deary,” she said, “when you were in Maude’s room yesterday, did you see any money around?”
“Pennies?” asked Bobby.
“No, not pennies. Paper money. Green money.”
“Ess, green paper, but not moneys. I cutted out a paper dolly; see! It’s not vewey good ’cause my sissiz was dull.”
Bobby dived down into a box, and produced a queer-shaped paper doll which was surely cut from a five-dollar bill!
Betty’s eyes danced, but she only said quietly:
“Where did you find the green paper, deary?”