"Why, maybe he'll be able to tell me whatever became of those drafts for ten thousand pounds that I took from old Don Pablo."
His companions laughed.
"Still thinking about that, are you?" said Donald. "Why of course you'll never hear of them again. The bank is simply in that much."
"Maybe so," admitted Billie, "but I'll get something official."
And he did.
It was several days later, though, after the regulars had taken possession of the city and the navy forces had withdrawn to their ships. The boys were sitting in Lieutenant Grant's quarters, to whom they had offered their services as soon after his landing as they were able, and were laughing over their adventures on the border.
"It was certainly a close call you boys had," the lieutenant was saying. "I'm not sure but our neutrality was mighty near a breaking point. What do you think, Billie?"
"Possibly so; Americans will be Americans. But say, Lieutenant, whatever was done about those drafts I took from Don Pablo? I've never been called upon to tell my story, nor have they ever come back to me."
"That's because you were out of the United States," replied Lieutenant Grant. "It was less than a month ago that I was asked if I knew your whereabouts. Uncle Sam has decided that he has no claim to the drafts and they were returned to me. I have them in my army chest. If they are any good to you, I shall be pleased to hand them over."
"I guess they are not much use to any one," sighed Billie mournfully. "My father says no bank would cash them without Don Pablo's signature, and no one can get that."