"Yep," said the Unwiseman. "I've got a bottle full of that chicken broth they gave us the first day out that I didn't even try to eat; six or seven bottlefuls of beef tea, and about two dozen ginger-snaps, eight pounds of hard-tack, and a couple of apple pies. I kept ordering things all the way across whether I felt like eating them or not and whatever I didn't eat I'd bottle up, or wrap up in a piece of paper and put away in the bag. I've got just three dinners, two breakfasts and four lunches in there. When I get to London I'm going to buy a bunch of bananas and have an eclaire put up in a tin box and those with what I've already got ought to last me throughout the whole trip."
"By the way, Mr. Me," said Mollie, a thoughtful look coming into her eyes. "Do you want me to ask my Papa to buy you a ticket for London? I think he'd do it if I asked him."
"I know he would," said Whistlebinkie. "He's one of the greatest men in the world for doing what Mollie asks him to."
"No thank you," replied the Unwiseman. "Of course if he had invited me to join the party at the start I might have been willing to have went at his expense, but seeing as how I sort of came along on my own hook I think I'd better look after myself. I'm an American, I am, and I kind of like to be free and independent like."
"Have you any money with you?" asked Mollie anxiously.
"No," laughed the Unwiseman. "That is, not more'n enough to buy that Duke's suit for $8.50 with. What's the use of having money? It's only a nuisance to carry around, and it makes you buy a lot of things you don't want just because you happen to have it along. People without money get along a great deal cheaper than people with it. Millionaires spend twice as much as poor people. Money ain't very sociable you know and it sort of hates to stay with you no matter how kind you are to it. So I didn't bring any along except the aforesaid eight-fifty."
"Tisn't much, is it," said Mollie.
"Not in dollars, but it's a lot in cents—eight hundred and fifty of 'em—that's a good deal," said the Unwiseman cheerfully. "Then each cent is ten mills—that's—O dear me—such a lot of mills!"
"Eight thousand five hundred," Mollie calculated.