“Make soup out of ’em,” came the answer over Nick’s shoulder.
“Hey, wait, Nick! Maybe it’ll work! Stick around fer a second, will yuh? Maybe I can do it!”
“Yea, an’ maybe cows can fly, too,” Nick snorted. But he turned, nevertheless, with a desire to see Pop’s failure.
Carefully the old man rolled the handkerchief containing the pieces of the bill into a small ball. This he held in the palm of his hand for a moment.
“Now, she ought to work,” he stated doubtfully. With a flip of his wrist he sent the handkerchief flying open. From its folds fluttered not the torn pieces he had put in, but—a ten dollar bill, whole and entire!
“What!”
Nick’s eyes almost bulged from their sockets. Amazement was written large on his face. He leaned forward, breathing hard.
“There she is!” Pop shouted triumphantly. “Told you it ’ud work! All it needed was somebody to do it! Gus, there’s yore tenner as good as new. Nick, yore a poluka. That’s as easy as pie! She came right out, as easy as easy!”
Nick turned his head slowly, looking at Pop with awe. He blinked rapidly. Then, without a word, he stumbled to the door and disappeared.
Gus bent down and picked up his bill, a wide grin on his face. He bowed to Pop.