“Oh, yes, I――I just wondered. It’s been torn, you see, and mended with a strip of court-plaster. It struck me that the court-plaster was a――a funny thing to patch a bill with. Maybe Frank did it, eh?” “He might have. I――I guess it’s just as good, isn’t it?” “Oh, certainly. You’re sure he gave it to you, eh?” “Yes, I remember quite well now,” replied Lingard promptly. “I borrowed a dollar of him last term to pay for having my trunk mended, and I forgot all about it until this morning――” “You and Frank are friends, then?” “Oh, yes. We live in the same street in New York, you know. Sometimes he borrows from me――when I have it.” Lingard paused. Then: “If you don’t mind, Tucker, I’d rather you didn’t mention it to any one. I guess he wouldn’t want it known.” “Why not?” “Why――why, you see, other fellows might want to borrow from him. I――I’d rather you didn’t, please.” “All right, Lingard. Good-night.” When the visitor’s footsteps had died away on the stairs Toby sat himself down at the table again, spread the dollar bill before him and then from the table drawer produced a little case containing three sheets of court-plaster. One was pink, one white and one black. The pink was whole, the black had been reduced to about half its original size and the white had had a strip about a quarter of an inch wide cut from its lower edge. Toby looked intently from that oblong of white sticking-plaster to the bill. Then he tore a piece of paper from a scratch-pad and found a pencil. Untying the little knot of silk that held the court-plaster book together, he extracted the pink sheet and laid it on the piece of paper and with the pencil carefully traced the outline of it. When that was done he laid the sheet of white plaster in place of the pink, and fitting it to the top and sides of the outline, passed his pencil across the bottom edge. After that he took his scissors and painstakingly cut out the quarter-inch strip remaining between the two bottom marks. As he had expected, the little piece of paper exactly fitted the strip of white court-plaster pasted over the edges of the tear in the dollar bill. There was no possibility of doubt. The two tallied to the hundredth part of an inch.