it at closer range. Then he leaned weakly against the wall, and
called out:

"Madame Tibault! Oh, madame! Since when--oh! since when have you
been in the habit of papering your walls with five thousand dollar
United States four per cent. gold bonds? Tell me--is this a Grimm's
fairy tale, or should I consult an oculist?"

At his words, Madame Tibault and Dumars approached.

"H'what you say?" said madame, cheerily. "H'what you say, M'sieur
Robbin? _Bon!_ Ah! those nize li'l peezes papier! One tam I think
those w'at you call calendair, wiz ze li'l day of mont' below. But,
no. Those wall is broke in those plaze, M'sieur Robbin', and I
plaze those li'l peezes papier to conceal ze crack. I did think the
couleur harm'nize so well with the wall papier. Where I get them
from? Ah, yes, I remem' ver' well. One day M'sieur Morin, he come
at my houze--thass 'bout one mont' before he shall die--thass 'long
'bout tam he promise fo' inves' those money fo' me. M'sieur Morin,
he leave thoze li'l peezes papier in those table, and say ver' much
'bout money thass hard for me to ond'stan. _Mais_ I never see those
money again. Thass ver' wicked man, M'sieur Morin. H'what you call
those peezes papier, M'sieur Robbin'--_bon!_"

Robbins explained.

"There's your twenty thousand dollars, with coupons attached," he
said, running his thumb around the edge of the four bonds. "Better
get an expert to peel them off for you. Mister Morin was all right.
I'm going out to get my ears trimmed."