The scheme sounded good to the younger man. He got out his pen and obeyed orders. Grand Central Pete took the envelope back in his hands and examined it carefully.
“Does that say nine thousand dollars?” he demanded.
“Yep,” said his partner.
“Well, it don’t look big enough to me,” said Pete. “You’d better add on some more of them naughts.”
The younger man protested, but Pete would have his way and kept after him until the educated one had tacked on three more naughts, making the grand total $9,000,000.
Then Pete marched grandly over to the hotel, registered for himself and his friend, passed the stuffed envelope across the desk to the clerk and called for the bridal suite.
The clerk took one look at the envelope, another look at the soiled faces and shabby apparel of the newcomers—and rang the bell for the bouncer. A minute later the discomfited pair were sitting on the sidewalk.
Grand Central Pete raised himself painfully and eyed his companion with a scornful, angry glance.
“There now,—dad-gum you!” he shouted; “I told you you hadn’t wrote in enough of them naughts!”