Carl did not know what to make of this. Had Hubbard forgotten that he had five dollars belonging to him? Fortunately, Carl had his city address, and could refund the money in New York.
“Very well! I will pay my own bill. How much is it?”
“A dollar and a quarter.”
Carl took the ten-dollar bill from his wallet and tendered it to the clerk.
Instead of changing it at once, the clerk held it up to the light and examined it critically.
“I can’t take that bill,” he said, abruptly.
“Why not?”
“Because it is counterfeit.”
Carl turned pale, and the room seemed to whirl round. It was all the money he had.