Paul drew out the odd ten dollar note Noddy had given him. Just as Ned had reported, it was an old style state bank note. And, in one of the blank spaces on the reverse side some one had made a very elaborate monogram of the initials H. R. C.
“Quite a curiosity,” observed Jerry, passing the bill back.
“I think so,” said Paul, puffing out thick clouds of smoke from his Egyptian cigarette. “But I suppose there is no premium on it.”
“There might be,” replied Jerry in as careless a tone as he could assume. “If I were you I’d save it and see.”
“I will,” said Paul. “I’ll place it in the very back part of my wallet, and I won’t spend it until I see a coin catalog. That’s an easy way to make money.”
“Where did you get the bill?” asked Jerry. “Perhaps you can get more.”
“Noddy Nixon gave it to me,” responded Paul. “I wasn’t going to take it at first, but he told me it was good.”
“Oh, I reckon it’s good enough,” answered Jerry. “Well, I guess I’ll be traveling. Good-bye, Paul.”
“Good afternoon, my dear chap,” answered Paul, lighting another cigarette.