Detective Bob Bridger — page 113: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

106 DETECTIVE BOB BRIDGER. Goucher nodded by way of recognition to the English- man, then busied himself again. i A Jack, the Fork,” picked up the wad which had once represented a new five-dollar bill. He straightened out the pieces, laid them together, ex- amined them carefully, and remarked : ‘‘T don’t see anything the matter with this bill. What's wrong with it?” ‘‘Sharper eyes than yours might suggest that same ques tion,” returned Goucher. “ However, the note is not exactly perfect, and I will permit nothing that might be anywhere detected to leave here.” The ‘‘roper” passed the torn bill to the Englishman, and he also examined it carefully. “T don’t—hic—see anything the matter with it.” said he. and I’ma judge of the money of all nations. In fact, there’s nothing the matter with it—it’s a good bill !” “Ha! ha!” laughed Goucher, ‘‘I have here plenty that are better, although that might travel the land over with- — out discovery. Now, how much of the stuff shall I roll up for you? One dollar buys five of it.” At this point, to the utter astonishment of the three “hawks,” the Englishman abruptly pushed his chair back from the table and smiled quietly upon the men before him. A look of intelligence passed between them, and then Goucher somewhat tartly demanded : ‘Well, you came here prepared to buy, didn’t you . Yes—hic—I’ ve got money.’ | ‘‘How much, then, of the stuff do you want?” “ All of that—hic—kind of stuff I can get at that price; but I've no particular use for bundles of saw dust and waste paper.”’ “What do you mean?” hic—that you haven’t gota bad bill in the house. You wouldn’t take a trunkful of crooked money as a free gift! And the good, old, threadbare game’s to roll up a lump of those—hic—hbills, take the chump’s—hic—money, change the package on him, and let him take away aroll of saw- dust or paper, which ’e police’d—hic—laugh at him for if he dared complain, which he dare not—” “Well, if you’re so ‘fly,’ ” roared Goucher, “what the — devil did you come here for ?” er And the three “hawks” sprang to their feet and glared _—