"I'm not short now. I'm flush, for which I thank Don John," said the sail-maker, as he placed two of the fifty-dollar bills on the desk, at which the captain was writing the receipt.
The uppermost of the two bills was the mended one, for Leach thought if there was any doubt in regard to this, it ought to be known at once. If the nabob would take it, the matter was settled. Captain Patterdale wrote the receipt, and did not at once glance at the money.
"There's a hundred, captain," added the sail-maker.
The rich man picked up the bills, and turned over the upper one. If he did not start, it was not because he was not surprised. He was utterly confounded when he saw that bill, and his thoughts flashed quickly through his mind. But he did not betray his thoughts or his emotions, quick as were the former, and intense as were the latter. He took up the mended bill, and looked it over several times.
"That's the white cross of Denmark," said he, suppressing his emotions.
"Isn't the bill good?" asked the sail-maker.
"Good as gold for eighty-eight cents on a dollar," replied the captain.
"Then it is not good," added Leach, who did not quite comprehend the nabob's mathematics.
"Yes, it is."
"But you say it is worth only eighty-eight cents on a dollar."