“Look in—the apple—drawer, I—tell you!”
Cal viewed his writhing friend bewilderedly a moment, but then strode to Ned’s bureau and pulled the drawer open. Ned stopped laughing by a supreme effort, crawled to the foot of the bed and looked over Cal’s shoulder. Cal stared at the apples.
“What—what about it?” he asked.
“Look underneath,” advised Ned. “Pitch the apples one side.”
Cal obeyed and then gave a cry.
“Here it is!” he exclaimed.
“Sure,” said Ned. Cal was holding a little wad of bills in his hand.
“But—but—” he stammered.
“What’s wrong?” asked Ned.
“It ain’t mine!”