"I can," declared Dick, coolly. "You? Where? With your father?" "No; Dad rarely takes in much in the way of pennies. I don't suppose he has two dollars' worth of pennies on hand at any time. But, fellows, you know that 'The Morning Blade' is a one cent paper. Now, the publisher of 'The Blade' must bank a keg of pennies every day in the week. I can see Mr. Pollock, the editor, this afternoon, right after luncheon. He has probably sent most of the pennies to bank today, but I'll ask him if he'll have to-morrow's pennies saved for us." "Say, if he'll only do that!" glowed Dan, his eyes flashing. "He will," declared Dave Darrin. "Mr. Pollock will do anything, within reason, that Dick asks." "Now, fellows, if I can put this thing through, we can meet in my room to-morrow afternoon at one o'clock. Pennies come in rolls of fifty each, you know. We'll have to break up the rolls, and make new ones, each containing fifteen pennies." Dave Darrin stopped where he was, and began to laugh. Tom Reade quickly joined in. The others were grinning. "Oh, say, just for one look at Prin.'s face, if we can spring that job on him!" chuckled Harry Hazelton. "We can," announced Dick, gravely. "So go home and enjoy your dinners, fellows. If you want to meet on the same old corner on Main Street, at half-past two to-day, we'll go in a body to 'The Blade' office and learn what Mr. Pollock has to say about our credit." "_Your_ credit, you mean," corrected Dave. After dinner Dick & Co. met as agreed. Arrived at "The Blade" office it was decided that Dick Prescott should go in alone to carry on the negotiation. He soon came out again, wearing a satisfied smile and carrying a package under one arm. "If I'm any good at guessing," suggested Dave, "you put the deal over." "Mr. Pollock agreed, all right," nodded Dick. "I have fourteen dollars here. He'll let us have the rest to-morrow." They hurried back to Dick's room, over the bookstore that was run by Mr. and Mrs. Prescott. "Whew, but this stuff is heavy," muttered Dick, dumping the package on the table. "Mr. Pollock sent out to the pressroom and had some paper cut of just the size that we shall need for wrappers." "Did you tell Pollock what we are going to do?" asked Greg Holmes. "Not exactly, but he guessed that some mischief was on. He wanted to know if it was anything that would make good local reading in 'The Blade,' so I told him I thought it would be worth a paragraph or two, and that I'd drop around Monday afternoon and give him the particulars. That was all I said." Inside the package were three "sticks" of the kind that are used for laying the little coins in a row before wrapping.