e continued as he laid three flimsy notes of
the Bank of France in her lap. "That's as good as American greenbacks."

The young lady ceased laughing, and for a minute, hesitated between
indignation and renewed mirth, but at last her sense of humour
conquered.

"Very well," she said; "stay here for a few minutes."

Half an hour later she returned with the dress wrapped up in a paper
parcel.

"How did you know I wouldn't go off with the money, dress and all?"
she asked as Abe seized the package.

"I took a chance, lady," he said; "like you are doing about the money
which I give you being good."

"Have no scruples on that score," the young lady replied. "I had it
examined at the clerk's office just now."

* * * * *

When M. Adolphe Kaufmann-Levi bade farewell to Moe, Abe, Leon, and Hymie
Salzman, at the Gare St. Lazare, he uttered words of encouragement and
cheer which failed to justify themselves after the four travellers'
embarkment at Cherbourg.

"You will have splendid weather," he had declared. "It will be fine all
the way over."

When the steamer passed out of the breakwater into the English Channel
she breasted a northeaster that lasted all the way to the Banks. Even
Hymie Salzman went under, and Leon Sammet walked the swaying decks
alone. Twice a day he poked his head into the stateroom occupied by Moe
Griesman and Abe Potash, for Abe had thrown economy to the winds and had
gone halves with Moe in the largest outside room on board.

"Boys," Leon would ask, "ain't you going to get up? The air is fine on
deck."

Had he but known it, Moe Griesman developed day by day, with growing
intensity, that violent hatred for Leon that the hopelessly seasick
feel toward good sailors; while toward Abe, who groaned unceasingly in
the upper berth, Moe Griesman evinced the affectionate interest that the
poor sailor evinces in any one who suffers more keenly than himself.

At length Nantucket lightship was passed, and as the sea grew calmer two
white-faced invalids, that on close scrutiny might have been recognized
by their oldest friends to be Moe and Abe, tottered up the companionway
and sank exhausted into the nearest deckchairs.

"Well, Moe," Leon cried, as he bustled toward them smoking a large cigar
and clad in a suit of immaculate white flannels, "so you're up again?"

The silence with which Moe received this remark ought to have warned
Leon, but he plunged headlong to his fate