“By the way,” said he, as they entered the business district, “how are you boys carrying your money?”
“Six one-hundred-dollar bills and the other hundred in tens and fives,” promptly responded Ted.
“So you are the treasurer, eh?”
“Yes; we reasoned, as I am the smaller and younger, that people would think that I would be less likely to have it and therefore it would be safer.”
“Not a bad idea, but I have a better one. We will just go into this bank here and get a letter of credit;” and quickly the physician brought his machine to a stop at the curb.
“But what shall we do for travelling money?” protested Phil.
“You can get the letter of credit for six hundred and seventy-five dollars. The remainder, with what you have left from your ticket money, will be really more than you will need until you arrive at Duluth. When you are there, you can go to a bank and draw enough money against your letter to pay your fare to Chikau.”
“You really think we had better?” asked Ted, ruefully, for he felt a pride in carrying the money which was to start them on the road to fortune.
“I certainly do,” declared Dr. Blair; then added, with a smile, “You can carry the letter of credit, which is practically the same as the money, only in a much safer form. You see, if you should lose or be robbed of the money, it would be gone for good, and you know how serious such a loss would be. On the other hand, if you should lose or be robbed of the letter, you would simply notify the bank to that effect and the money would still be safe.”
“But how could we get it?” inquired Phil.