“I forget the boy’s name I sold it to,” Paul said in reply, “but he talks very fast, is always in a hurry, and doesn’t seem to have time to breathe.”
“Andy Rush, I’ll bet a cooky,” cried Jerry.
“That’s the name. I thought first it was Andy Hurry, but I remember now, it was Rush. It’s the same thing.”
“Pretty nearly,” agreed Jerry. “Well, I’ll be going I guess.”
In due time Andy Rush returned from his visit to his aunt. Jerry heard of his home-coming and soon hunted up the rapid chap.
“Did you get home all right?” burst out Andy as soon as he caught sight of Jerry. “My but that was a storm—wish you could have stayed with me—I had jolly fun—the horse ran away with me—I got chased by a bull—fell in the ditch—sprained my wrist, and got kicked by a cow—whoop!”
“I say Andy,” broke in Jerry, anxious to get on the subject that interested him, “have you a queer bank bill that you got from Paul Banner?”
“I have!” exclaimed Andy. “I gave him a dollar extra for it. I thought it might be valuable—no go—bill is just like any other—no premium—I’m out a dollar—too bad!”
“I’ll buy it from you for just what you gave for it,” said Jerry eagerly. “I want it for a particular purpose. Will you sell it?”
“I sure will!” cried Andy. “I don’t like to lose money—here it is—glad you spoke—I would have spent it in a week.”