"The manager says this is an American coin."
Charlie sat back and went limp; he looked from one to the other, mouth open.
"So it is," said Scholar easily. "I wasn't thinking. I haven't got anything else, either—I have only American money. Still, that's the same as two shillings; that will be all right, won't it?"
Charlie pushed his plate forward on the table, pushed his coffee cup forward. The girl departed, and the manager called: "I'm not supposed to take foreign money, but that's all right. Have your breakfasts. The money-changing places aren't open yet."
"By gee, you'll get run in!" whispered the Inquisitive One. "Get run in!" He pushed the dishes still farther from him.
"Thank you very much," answered Scholar, looking to the manager. "Perhaps you could send somebody out to get the money changed." He smiled cheerfully. "You don't know us, and we might run off."
"Oh, that's all right—there's a place just across the street," said the man behind the counter. (The girl put down the fifty-cent piece beside him.) "Just arrived?" he asked affably.
Charlie kept gibbering: "Can't eat! Can't eat! My appetite's gone! I feel stalled before I start. Couldn't touch it. Might have got run in. Might have got me run in!" and he flared up angry for a moment. "That's what you might have done to me."