“Indeed, sir, I didn't know anything about it,” said Ida, earnestly, “I hope you will believe me when I say that I thought it was good.”
“I don't know what to think,” said the baker, perplexed.
“I don't know whether to believe you or not,” said he. “Have you any other money?”
“That is all I have got.”
“Of course, I can't let you have the gingerbread. Some would deliver you up into the hands of the police. However, I will let you go if you will make me one promise.”
“Oh, anything, sir.”
“You have given me a bad dollar. Will you promise to bring me a good one to-morrow?”
Ida made the required promise, and was allowed to go.