mill. He proceeded cautiously, taking care not to step in the big holes

that yawned here and there. He crept around to a place near the front entrance to the old structure. Fortunately here he found where a board had come loose, so that it afforded a good listening place.

“I don’t see what in the world you wanted to bring me all the way out to this lonely place for, my dear chap,” Paul was saying.

“It’s this way,” Noddy was explaining. “I told you I was short of cash, and had to ask you to wait until to-day to pay the bet I made with you.”

“But, my dear fellow,” “Polly” expostulated, “why couldn’t you pay me up there in town, just as well?”

“To tell you the truth,” said Noddy, in a tone that would indicate to any one who knew him that he was going to do just the opposite, “I didn’t want any one to see me paying you.”

“And why not, pray, my dear chap?”

“Because I owe quite a few bets,” replied Noddy. “I am going to square them all up in a day or so, but if those I owe saw me paying you they would all come down on me at once and I would be financially embarrassed. I suppose you’re ready to take the money now?”

“Ready, nay, anxious, my dear chap.”

“Well, I had a little trouble in getting it,” went on Noddy, not going into particulars, however. “And here it is. Just one hundred dollars, isn’t it?”

“Correct, my dear boy.”

“Ten fives are fifty,” said Noddy, counting out some bills, “and twenty is seventy. Twenty more is ninety, and that ten makes just the hundred.”

“Hold on here!” exclaimed Paul, when Noddy had come to the end of his counting. “This bill doesn’t look just right.”

“Which bill?”

“This last ten dollar one. I never saw one like it.”

“Nonsense, that’s all right,” responded Noddy. “Let’s see it.”

Paul passed it back.

“Why, certainly it’s good,” Noddy said. “It’s a state bank bill, instead of a national one, that’s all. Issued by the Merchants’ Bank of Boston.”

“But what’s that queer red mark on it?”

Noddy examined it more closely. Then he laughed.

“Some one has gone to the trouble of marking his initials on it in red ink,” he said. “Probably for identification, or to serve as a mark. Maybe it was once used as a marked bill,” and Noddy gave a short laugh. “See, there are the letters H. R. C.”

“I guess you’re right,” agreed Paul. “Well, hand it over. I must be going. Sorry you lost the bet, but losers must pay, you know.”

“Oh, I’m not squealing,” retorted Noddy.

“Guess I’ll be going,” went on Paul. “Beastly long walk back to town.”

Ned was glad to hear the sound of departing footsteps. He kept in hiding for five minutes, however, fearing Noddy might return. At the end of that time he ventured out. He saw Noddy and Paul almost across the field and knew he was safe.

Ned hurried back to town, going the same roundabout path he had taken in coming. He hastened to Jerry’s house and told him what had taken place, and the two hunted up Bob and related the events to him.

“Things are getting warm,” commented Bob.

“They are that,” replied Jerry.

“I wonder if one of us couldn’t get a talk with ‘Polly’ Banner?” suggested Jerry. “We might manage to get talking about queer bills, and ‘Polly’ would show us the one he had.”

“Suppose you try that,” Bob said.

“I’m willing,” Jerry responded. “I’ll take a walk down town now, and maybe I’ll meet him. You wait until I come back.”

Jerry resolved to first visit the club house of the athletic organization, as he knew Paul spent a good deal of his time there. Sure enough, he found Paul sitting at ease in a comfortable chair, smoking a perfumed cigarette and reading a book.

“I say, Paul,” said Jerry, “you’re not interested in old coins are you?”

“Old coins? No, my dear chap; why should I be interested in old coins?”

“Oh, I don’t know. I was just wondering. Some people collect old coins, and some stamps. I favor stamps, myself.”

“Now that you speak of it,” said Paul, “I remember I have an old bill about me. It’s rather odd. Maybe you’d be interested in it.”

“Let’s see,” replied Jerry, thanking his stars that he was about to accomplish his purpose so easily.

Paul drew out the odd ten dollar note Noddy had given him. Just as Ned had reported, it was an old style state bank note. And, in one of the blank spaces on the reverse side some one had made a very elaborate monogram of the initials H. R. C.

“Quite a curiosity,” observed Jerry, passing the bill back.

“I think so,” said Paul, puffing out thick clouds of smoke from his Egyptian cigarette. “But I suppose there is no premium on it.”

“There might be,” replied Jerry in as careless a tone as he could assume. “If I were you I’d save it and see.”

“I will,” said Paul. “I’ll place it in the very back part of my wallet, and I won’t spend it until I see a coin catalog. That’s an easy way to make money.”

“Where did you get the bill?” asked Jerry. “Perhaps you can get more.”

“Noddy Nixon gave it to me,” responded Paul. “I wasn’t going to take it at first, but he told me it was good.”

“Oh, I reckon it’s good enough,” answered Jerry. “Well, I guess I’ll be traveling. Good-bye, Paul.”

“Good afternoon, my dear chap,” answered Paul, lighting another cigarette.

“I’ll not forget how that bill looks,” said Jerry to himself, as he sought his two chums and told them what had taken place between Paul and himself.