When I see a fellow of your style I like to encourage him." Tom thanked him and passed on.
The incident would not be worth recording but for the fact that it was repeated the next day, when the same young man bought a _Herald_, and compelled the lad to accept a bright silver quarter in payment, without allowing him to give any change.
Six times on successive days was this done, and then the liberal purchaser disappeared from the train.
Aside from the repetition of his favors, it was rather curious that on each occasion he should have placed a silver quarter in the palm of Tom.
Each coin was of the same date as that year, and was so bright and shiny that Tom believed they must have come directly from the mint.

They looked so handsome, indeed, that he determined to keep them as pocket-pieces, instead of giving them out in change.
There is nothing like actual experience to sharpen a fellow's wits; and, on the first day the munificent stranger vanished, a dim suspicion entered the head of Tom that some mischief was brewing.
That night in New York he examined the coins more minutely than heretofore.

Half an hour later he walked down to the wharf and threw them into the river.
The whole six were counterfeit.

It wasn't safe for any one to carry such property about him.
Tom was strongly convinced, further, that a job was being "put up" on him, and he was mightily relieved when thoroughly rid of them.
That same evening one of his employers sent for him, and told him that he had received reliable information that he, Thomas Gordon, was working off counterfeit money on the road.
The boy denied it, of course, but he did not choose to tell all he knew, for he saw that his own situation was a dangerous one; but he demanded that the proof should be produced.
There was an officer present, who thereupon searched the lad for the "queer," but he acknowledged there wasn't a penny on him which was not sound.
Tom was kept at the office while another officer went to his lodging-house and ransacked his room.

The result was _nil_.