Jacobs had intimated, if he could not find the one
who had given him the counterfeit and persuade him to give him good
money in its stead. He remembered very plainly where he had sold
each glass of lemonade, and he retraced his steps, glancing at each
face carefully as he passed. At last he was confident that he saw
the man who had gotten him into such trouble, and he climbed up
the board seats, saying, as he stood in front of him and held out
the coin: "Mister, this money that you gave me is bad. Won't you
give me another one for it?"
The man was a rough looking party who had taken his girl to the
circus, and who did not seem at all disposed to pay any heed to
Toby's request. Therefore he repeated it, and this time more loudly.
"Get out the way!" said the man, angrily. "How can you expect me
to see the show if you stand right in front of me?"
"You'll like it better," said Toby, earnestly, "if you give me
another ten cent piece."
"Get out an' don't bother me!" was the angry rejoinder; and the
little fellow began to think that perhaps he would be obliged to
"get out" without getting his money.
It was becoming a desperate case, for the man was growing angry
very fast and if Toby did not succeed in getting good money for
the bad, he would have to take the consequences of which Mr. Jacobs
had spoken.
"Please, mister," he said, imploringly -- for his heart began to
grow very heavy, and he was fearing that he should not succeed --
"won't you please give me the money back? You know you gave it to
me, an' I'll have to pay it if you don't.
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