“How large an amount in greenbacks do you suppose you could carry?” asked Archie. “I mean in small bills, ranging from ones up to twenties.”
“O, I could carry all you could pile on me,” said Fred, confidently, “two or three million, probably.”
“Yes, and five or six million,” said Eugene.
“That’s much better than I can do,” said Archie, with a laugh, “and while I was in the Fleet Paymaster’s office during the war, I had more than one opportunity to try my hand at it. We used to get drafts from Washington on the sub-treasury in St. Louis, calling for two hundred thousand dollars. When the chief went up to draw the money I generally went with him, taking with me two large carpet-bags to bring the greenbacks home in. The money was put up in square packages of such size that two of them were all I could get into each carpet-bag. It was my business, after the money was drawn, to look out for it until we reached Cairo. In carrying it from the sub-treasury to the Planter’s House, where we always stopped—I forget just how many blocks I had to walk—I was always obliged to rest at least once on the way, and to put the carpet-bags down for a minute or two on the steps of the hotel before going up to my room.”
“And only two hundred thousand dollars in them?” cried Fred.
“Are greenbacks as heavy as that?” exclaimed Eugene.
“They made my arms ache, I assure you,” replied Archie, “and I was glad when they were safe in the strong box at Cairo. Now, judging by that, how much do you think a million in small bills would weigh?”
“O, I’ll not make a guess,” said Featherweight. “I don’t want to show how ignorant I am.”
“Do you suppose you could lift it?”
“Well—no; could I?”