on each roll?" asked the teller.

"Why---er---no," stammered the principal. "They're just loose---in
bulk, I mean."

"Then I'm very sorry, Mr. Cantwell, but we can't receive them
in that shape, sir. They will have to be counted and wrapped,
and your name written on each roll."

"Do you mean to say that I must take these pennies home, count
them all---again!---and then wrap them and sign the wrappers."

"I'm sorry, but you, or some one will have to do it, Mr. Cantwell."

Then and there the principal exploded. One man there was in the
bank at that moment who was obliged to turn his head away and
stifle back the laughter. That man was Mr. Pollock, of "The Blade."
Pollock knew now what Dick & Co. had wanted of such a cargo of
pennies.

"I can't carry this infernal satchel back to school," groaned
the principal, disgustedly. "Some of the boys, when they see me,
will realize that the satchel is still loaded, and they'll know
what has happened to me at the bank. It will make me look fearfully
ridiculous to be caught in that fashion, with the joke against
me a second time! And yet I have a class immediately after recess.
What can I do?"

A moment later, however, he had solved the problem. There was
a livery stable not far away, and he knew the proprietor. So