“Yes,” answered the Tin Woodman; “but our friend’s clothes are useless without stuffing.”
“Why not stuff him with money?” asked Tip.
“Money!” they all cried, in an amazed chorus.
“To be sure,” said the boy. “In the bottom of the nest are thousands of dollar bills—and two-dollar bills—and five-dollar bills—and tens, and twenties, and fifties. There are enough of them to stuff a dozen Scarecrows. Why not use the money?”
The Tin Woodman began to turn over the rubbish with the handle of his axe; and, sure enough, what they had first thought only worthless papers were found to be all bills of various denominations, which the mischievous Jackdaws had for years been engaged in stealing from the villages and cities they visited.
There was an immense fortune lying in that inaccessible nest; and Tip’s suggestion was, with the Scarecrow’s consent, quickly acted upon.
They selected all the newest and cleanest bills and assorted them into various piles. The Scarecrow’s left leg and boot were stuffed with five-dollar bills; his right leg was stuffed with ten-dollar bills, and his body so closely filled with fifties, one-hundreds and one-thousands that he could scarcely button his jacket with comfort.
“You are now” said the Woggle-Bug, impressively, when the task had been completed, “the most valuable member of our party; and as you are among faithful friends there is little danger of your being spent.”