“Oh, Neale!”
“But you can bet they are counterfeit. Of course they are!”
“Oh, dear!”
“Silly! Good money wouldn’t be allowed to lie in a garret the way this was. Somebody’d have found it long ago. Your Uncle Peter, or Unc’ Rufus—or somebody. What is puzzling me is why it was put in a scrap-book.”
“Oh! they’re only pasted in at the corners. There’s one all loose. For ten dollars, Neale!”
“Well, you go out and try to spend it, Aggie,” chuckled her boy chum. “You’d get arrested and Ruth would have to bail you out.”
“It’s just awful,” Agnes declared, “for folks to make such things to fool other folks.”
“It’s a crime. I don’t know but you can be punished for having the stuff in your possession.”
“Goodness me! Then let’s put it in the stove.”
“Hold on! Let’s count it, first,” proposed Neale, laughing.