CHAPTER XIX

  BAD MONEY

  The baker introduced in the foregoing chapter was named Harding.Singularly, Abel Harding was a brother of Timothy Harding, the cooper.

  In many respects he resembled his brother. He was an excellent man,exemplary in all the relations of life, and had a good heart. He was invery comfortable circumstances, having accumulated a little property bydiligent attention to his business. Like his brother, Abel Harding hadmarried, and had one child. She had received the name of Ellen.

  When the baker closed his shop for the night, he did not forget the newdollar, which he had received, or the disposal he told Ida he would makeof it.

  Ellen ran to meet her father as he entered the house.

  "What do you think I have brought you, Ellen?" he said, with a smile.

  "Do tell me quick," said the child, eagerly.

  "What if I should tell you it was a new dollar?"

  "Oh, papa, thank you!" and Ellen ran to show it to her mother.

  "Yes," said the baker, "I received it from a little girl about the sizeof Ellen, and I suppose it was that that gave me the idea of bringing ithome to her."

  This was all that passed concerning Ida at that time. The thought of herwould have passed from the baker's mind, if it had not been recalled bycircumstances.

  Ellen, like most girls of her age, when in possession of money, couldnot be easy until she had spent it. Her mother advised her to deposit itin some savings bank; but Ellen preferred present gratification.

  Accordingly, one afternoon, when walking out with her mother, shepersuaded her to go into a toy shop, and price a doll which she saw inthe window. The price was seventy-five cents. Ellen concluded to buy it,and her mother tendered the dollar in payment.

  The shopman took it in his hand, glanced at it carelessly at first, thenscrutinized it with increased attention.

  "What is the matter?" inquired Mrs. Harding. "It is good, isn't it?"

  "That is what I am doubtful of," was the reply.

  "It is new."

  "And that is against it. If it were old, it would be more likely to begenuine."

  "But you wouldn't condemn a bill because it is new?"

  "Certainly not; but the fact is, there have been lately many cases wherecounterfeit bills have been passed, and I suspect this is one of them.However, I can soon ascertain."

  "I wish you would," said the baker's wife. "My husband took it at hisshop, and will be likely to take more unless he is put on his guard."

  The shopman sent it to the bank where it was pronounced counterfeit.

  Mr. Harding was much surprised at his wife's story.

  "Really!" he said. "I had no suspicion of this. Can it be possible thatsuch a young and beautiful child could be guilty of such an offense?"

  "Perhaps not," answered his wife. "She may be as innocent in the matteras Ellen or myself."

  "I hope so," said the baker; "it would be a pity that so young a childshould be given to wickedness. However, I shall find out before long."

  "How?"

  "She will undoubtedly come again sometime."

  The baker watched daily for the coming of Ida. He waited some days invain. It was not Peg's policy to send the child too often to the sameplace, as that would increase the chances of detection.

  One day, however, Ida entered the shop as before.

  "Good-morning," said the baker; "what will you have to-day?"

  "You may give me a sheet of gingerbread, sir."

  The baker placed it in her hand.

  "How much will it be?"

  "Twelve cents."

  Ida offered him another new bill.

  As if to make change, he stepped from behind the counter and placedhimself between Ida and the door.

  "What is your name, my child?" he asked.

  "Ida, sir."

  "Ida? But what is your other name?"

  Ida hesitated a moment, because Peg had forbidden her to use the name ofHarding, and had told her, if ever the inquiry were made, she mustanswer Hardwick.

  She answered reluctantly: "Ida Hardwick."

  The baker observed her hesitation, and this increased his suspicion.

  "Hardwick!" he repeated, musingly, endeavoring to draw from the child asmuch information as possible before allowing her to perceive that hesuspected her. "And where do you live?"

  Ida was a child of spirit, and did not understand why she should bequestioned so closely.

  She said, with some impatience: "I am in a hurry, sir, and would like tohave the change as soon as you can."

  "I have no doubt of it," said the baker, his manner suddenly changing,"but you cannot go just yet."

  "Why not?" asked Ida.

  "Because you have been trying to deceive me."

  "I trying to deceive you!" exclaimed Ida.

  "Really," thought Mr. Harding, "she does it well; but no doubt she istrained to it. It is perfectly shocking, such artful depravity in achild."

  "Don't you remember buying something here a week ago?" he asked, in asstern a tone as his good nature would allow him to employ.

  "Yes," answered Ida, promptly; "I bought two rolls, at three centsapiece."

  "And what did you offer me in payment?"

  "I handed you a dollar bill."

  "Like this?" asked the baker, holding up the one she had just offeredhim.

  "Yes, sir."

  "And do you mean to say," demanded the baker, sternly, "that you didn'tknow it was bad when you offered it to me?"

  "Bad!" gasped Ida.

  "Yes, spurious. Not as good as blank paper."

  "Indeed, sir, I didn't know anything about it," said Ida, earnestly;"I hope you'll believe me when I say that I thought it was good."

  "I don't know what to think," said the baker, perplexed. "Who gave youthe money?"

  "The woman I board with."

  "Of course I can't give you the gingerbread. Some men, in my place,would deliver you up to the police. But I will let you go, if you willmake me one promise."

  "Oh, I will promise anything, sir," said Ida.

  "You have given me a bad dollar. Will you promise to bring me a good oneto-morrow?"

  Ida made the required promise, and was allowed to go.