"You knew that the bill was counterfeit,
didn't you?" demanded the tramp, fiercely.
"I was told so at the hotel where I offered
it in payment for my bill."
"Yet you passed it on me!"
"I didn't pass it on you. You took it from me,"
retorted Carl, with spirit.
"That makes no difference."
"I think it does. I wouldn't have offered
it to anyone in payment of an honest bill."
"Humph! you thought because I was poor
and unfortunate you could pass it off on me!"
This seemed so grotesque that Carl found
it difficult not to laugh.
"Do you know it nearly got me into trouble?"
went on the tramp.
"How was that?"
"I stopped at a baker's shop to get a lunch.
When I got through I offered the bill. The
old Dutchman put on his spectacles, and he
looked first at the bill, then at me. Then he
threatened to have me arrested for passing bad
money. I told him I'd go out in the back yard
and settle it with him. I tell you, boy, I'd
have knocked him out in one round, and he
knew it, so he bade me be gone and never
darken his door again. Where did you get it?"
"It was passed on me by a man I was traveling with."
"How much other money have you got?" asked the tramp.
"Very little."
"Give it to me, whatever it is."
This was a little too much for Carl's patience.
"I have no money to spare," he said, shortly.
"Say that over again!" said the tramp, menacingly.
"If you don't understand me, I will.
I have no money to spare."
"You'll spare it to me, I reckon."
"Look here," said Carl, slowly backing.
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