were identical, and they bore the same red number, one up in the
hundred thousands.

"Now," continued Joe, "can you tell which of these two is the official
circus ticket and which is the bogus one?"

The chemist thought for a moment.

"Have you a ticket--say one issued some time ago--which you are positive
is genuine?" he asked.

"I'm ready for you there," answered Joe. "Here's a coupon that happened
to escape destruction. It was one sold several weeks ago at our ticket
wagon, before we noticed this trouble. I bought the ticket myself, so I
know. I happened to be passing the wagon, and a boy was trying to reach
up to buy a fifty cent seat. He wasn't quite tall enough, so I reached
for him.

"Then, when I looked at him, I saw that fifty cents meant a lot to him.
I gave him back his half dollar out of my own pocket, and passed him in
to a reserved seat. But I forgot to turn the ticket in to the wagon, and
it's been in my pocket ever since. Now I'm glad I saved it, for it will
serve as a tester."

"Yes," admitted the chemist, "it will. It's a good thing you have this.
But, Mr. Strong, this is going to take some time. I'll have to compare
all these tickets with the admittedly genuine one, and I'll have to make
some intricate tests."

"Well, I hoped you might be able to tell me right off the reel which of