"Is pretty small potatoes," finished Lance Darby, the dark youth. "But what's the matter here, Laura?" he added. "I've counted these bills and they are just exactly right by those figures you have set down there." "You turned them from left to right as you counted, Lance," cried Laura. "Sure! I counted the face of each bill," was the answer. "Now count them the other way!" exclaimed Laura in despair. Her friends gathered around while Laura did this. Even Chet gave some attention to his sister's trouble now. From right to left the packet of bank-notes came to fifty dollars less than the sum accredited to them on the ledger. "Well, what do you know about that?" breathed Lance. "That's the strangest thing!" declared Jess Morse. "Why," said Bobby of the quick mind, "must be some of the bills are not printed right." "Nonsense!" ejaculated Chet. "Who ever heard of such a thing as a banknote being printed wrong unless it was a counterfeit?" demanded Laura. Mr. Belding, having finished with his customer, came back to the little office and heard this. "I am quite sure we have taken in no counterfeits--eh, Chet?" he said, smiling. "And there's only one big bill--this hundred," said Chet, who had taken the package of bills and was flirting them through his fingers. "I took that in myself when I sold that lavallière to the man I told you about, Father. You remember? He was a stranger, and he said he wanted to give it to a young girl. I------" "Let's see that bill, Chet!" exclaimed Bobby Hargrew suddenly. Chet slipped the hundred-dollar note out of the packet and handed it to the grocer's daughter. But she immediately cried: "I want to see the hundred-dollar bill, Chet. Not this one." "Why, that's the hundred------" "This is a fifty," interrupted Bobby. "Can't you see?" She displayed the face of a fifty-dollar bank-note to their wondering eyes. Their exclamations drowned Mr. Belding's voice, and he had to speak twice before Bobby heard him. "Turn it over!" The grocer's daughter did so. The other side of the bill was the face of a hundred-dollar bank-note! At this there certainly was a hullabaloo in and around the office. Mr. Belding could scarcely make himself heard again. He was annoyed. "What is the matter with that bank-note? Whether it is counterfeit or not, you took it in over the counter, Chetwood," he said coldly. "This very day," admitted his oldest son. "Then, my boy, it is up to you," said the jeweler grimly. "What----Just what do you mean?" asked Chet, somewhat troubled by his father's sternness. "In a jewelry store," said Mr. Belding seriously, "as I have often told you, a clerk must keep his eyes open. You admit taking in this bill. If the Treasury Department says it is worth only fifty dollars, I shall expect you to make good the other fifty." The young people stared at each other in awed silence as the jeweler turned away. They could feel how annoyed he was.