It was in May of the following spring, when, having looked at a quotation of his milk stock, and found that it was a little higher than it had ever been before, Dick walked down to his father's bank to consult him about certain matters.
He found Mr. Hamilton in his private office, but the millionaire did not have a cheerful smile on his face. Instead he looked troubled.
"What's the matter, dad?" asked Dick.
"Well, I don't like the way the money market looks in New York," was the answer. "I've just heard by telegraph that several large banks have failed."
"Does it involve you?"
"To a certain extent, yes. Things look like a panic, such as we had a few years ago. Still, it may blow over."
"I wonder if it will affect the milk company?"
"It might. But there, Dick, don't go to worrying. You'll have enough of that to do when you get older. Things may turn out all right." But the worried look did not leave Mr. Hamilton's face, in spite of his attempt to cheer up his son.
The next morning when Dick came down to breakfast he saw his father at the table. But, instead of eating, the millionaire was eagerly looking at a newspaper. Dick glanced over his father's shoulder. There, staring at him, in big black letters, was the heading of a long article:
"Are things—are things in bad shape, dad?" asked Dick.
"Pretty much so," replied Mr. Hamilton, not looking up. "It's not as bad as I feared, though, and our bank will not suffer. However, lots of small concerns, and some big ones, have failed."
Then Dick caught sight of another part of the paper. He could hardly believe his eyes, for, in a prominent part of the page, was an article telling of the failure of the big milk concern in which he had invested.
"Dad!" he exclaimed, taking hold of the paper, and pointing to the account.
"Yes," replied Mr. Hamilton. "I saw it. Your investment is a failure, Dick."
For a few moments father and son looked at each other. Dick hardly knew what to say, but the millionaire was evidently used to harder business disappointments than the present one, for he laughed and remarked:
"Never mind, Dick. You made a good attempt, but you failed. You have over a month yet in which to comply with the terms of the will. In that time you ought to be able to find some good, paying investment. Look over the paper. There's lots of bad financial news in it, but you may find some good. I must hurry to the bank. This panic will affect a number of our customers. I'm going to be very busy for some days to come."
Mr. Hamilton continued with his breakfast as if nothing had happened, but poor Dick's appetite vanished. He had counted so much on his shares in the milk company paying well that he had never thought of failure. Particularly as, of late, they had seemingly increased in value. But, as he learned by looking over the paper after his father left, many older and stronger concernsthan the milk company in which he was interested had failed.
"Panics are bad things," murmured Dick, which sentiment was echoed by many another person that day.
Still Dick was not too much cast down. He knew he was a very wealthy young man, and he had no fear that his father's millions would be disturbed in the general hard times that would be sure to follow. But it hurt his pride that, with all his wealth, he could not do as much as little Tim Muldoon had done—start with nothing and make money.
"I'm almost ready to sell papers," mused Dick, with a smile.
However, he decided to do nothing rash. He still had more than a month until his birthday—the time limit for making the paying investment—and he felt that in that period something would occur that would enable him to fulfil the conditions of his mother's will.
"At any rate, I've got to go to school to-day," he said to himself, as he finished what, for him, was rather a slim breakfast. "I guess I'll come out right in the end. In fact, I've got to if I want to escape Uncle Ezra's clutches."
As Dick was coming home from his classes that afternoon, turning over in his mind various plans for making a good investment—from growing mushrooms or raising squabs to starting a brass band or becoming proprietor of a smallcircus—he saw coming toward him a dilapidated rig. He knew it could be none other than that of Henry Darby. As the horse and wagon approached it seemed to Dick to look, more than ever, ready to fall apart.
"Well, Henry," he remarked. "I see you're still in business. The panic hasn't bothered you, has it?"
"Not me, so much as it has the horse and wagon," replied Henry, with a laugh. "Don't you think that beast's ribs are nearer caving in than they were the last time you saw it?"
"He does look thinner, for a fact," admitted Dick.
"He is," and Henry spoke with solemn earnestness. "They were almost touching on either side this morning, but I gave him all the hay I could afford and that sort of spread them apart. As for the wagon—well, I don't need any bell or automobile horn to tell people I'm coming. It rattles enough to be heard two blocks off."
"Why don't you get a better outfit?" suggested Dick. "I should think it would pay."
"It might pay, but I couldn't. I'll have to get along with this for a while," and Henry looked at the odd assortment of old metal he had collected and was taking to his storage yard.
"Isn't the business paying as well as you thought it would, Henry?"
"Oh, the business is all right. The trouble is the way the president manages it," and Henrysmiled ruefully. "You remember I told you dad had taken most of the surplus capital for one of his schemes," and he looked inquiringly at Dick.
"Yes, I remember, you said he thought there were thousands of dollars in it."
"Well, they're still there," said Henry, with dry humor. "Dad hasn't been able to induce 'em to come forth and nestle in his or my pockets. That's why I haven't enough money to buy a new horse and wagon. If I had it I could cover more ground in a day and do more business. As for this—this—well, I don't know what to call him. He reminds me of a heap of old iron, sticking out seven ways from Sunday, as the old saying is. You see his bones stick out like so many points."
"They do, for a fact," and Dick looked at the horse, that presented more angles than he had ever before imagined a horse possessed.
"There's one consolation," went on Henry. "He's cheap, but there's another disadvantage, he looks it. So does the wagon. Whenever I start away from home to collect old metal I always tell dad not to worry if I don't get back that night. There's no telling which will break down first—the horse or the wagon. It's like taking a voyage in a sailing ship, no telling when you'll arrive.
"Still," he went on, "there's one advantage. It keeps my journeys from being monotonous. Nothing like having a horse that may develop spavin, ring bone or heaves on the road any minute, or a wagon that may drop all four wheels at once and break every spring. It keeps me from getting lonesome."
"I'm sorry to hear the old metal business is so poor," remarked Dick. "What caused the trouble?"
"Well, dad got an idea that he knew a lot about old iron and such things. He started in to do the buying and I was to go after the stuff, when he had purchased it, and bring it home. He did buy some iron scrap and a lot of old horseshoes that I made a profit on. Then he heard of some metal at an old factory. Someone told him it had a lot of platinum in it. Now, platinum is very valuable. Dad thought he had struck a bargain. He paid a big price for the stuff. In fact, he used up every cent I had put away in order to get hold of that metal he thought had platinum in it."
"Didn't it?" asked Dick, as Henry stopped.
"Not a bit. Someone worked off a lot of steel and iron mixed, on poor old dad. I can't sell it anywhere. It's a peculiar mixture of metal. Some new company had it made for their machinery and they busted up. I've got the stuff back in the storage yard now. Can't get rid of it, though I've tried all over. That's where all my money is. So I have to begin all over again."
"It's too bad," said Dick, with ready sympathy.
"Yes, dad felt quite cut-up over it—for a fewdays. Then he thought of a new scheme. He says it'll make our fortune if he can only work it. But he hasn't any capital to start it, and, until I work some up in a small way, I haven't any, either. But there, I'm sorry I bothered you with all my troubles. I guess you have enough of your own. I'll pull out somehow." And calling to the horse, that had gone to sleep, Henry managed to arouse the animal and started off, the wagon rattling like a load of steel girders.
"Everything seems to be going wrong," murmured Dick, as he walked toward home. "I guess I'll have to help Henry along some more. He deserves it. And I must do something about my own investment. The time is getting shorter."
For two weeks Dick thought over many plans, but as fast as he made them he rejected them. Some his father advised him against, and others, after consideration, he decided would not give an adequate return for money invested. He was getting worried, for it was only a little more than a month until his birthday, when, if he had not complied with the provisions of the will, he must spend a year with his Uncle Ezra. The thought of that made him gloomy indeed.
He had almost decided, one afternoon, to put some money in a small ice-cream store, which he heard was being started at Lake Dunkirk for the summer excursion season.
"There ought to be good money in that," reasoned Dick. "I could get a lot of my friends tobuy ice-cream there and it would help me to make a profit. I think I'll look up the manager and see if he'll take a partner."
He was about to go out, to put his newly-formed resolution into operation, when the maid announced a gentleman to see him.
"Who is it?" asked Dick.
"He won't tell me his name. He insists on seeing you at once."
"Another crank, I suppose. I thought they were done coming here. Well, show him in."
A moment later there entered the room a little man, with a long white beard and snow-white hair. He had the jolliest face imaginable, and looked just like a picture of Santa Claus.
"Allow me to introduce myself," he said, with a German accent. "I am Herr Wilhelm Doodlebrod, und I haf de airship at der freight station. When can I gif you an exhibition?"
"Airship?" murmured Dick, in bewilderment, While Herr Doodlebrod nodded several times and chuckled, as if it was the best joke in the world.
Dick looked closely at Herr Doodlebrod, as if to see if the German had a bomb concealed about him, for the millionaire's son believed the man was another of the unfortunate persons who had some impossible scheme he wanted aid in perfecting.
"You vill like der airship, yes?" went on the smiling, little, old man. "Ah, he is a beautiful airship!—so strong, so graceful, und he sails along so just like a bird!"
Again he smiled, and then he laughed, as though he had just told Dick a very funny story. The German's good nature was catching, and Dick also smiled.
"I'm afraid I don't quite understand you," the boy said.
"Ach! Dot is easy!" replied Herr Doodlebrod. "See, listen, it is dis vay. I am de greatest inventor of an airships vot efer vas," and he said it as if he meant it, with child-like directness, "I haf der ship vot all der scientists haf long beenvaiting for. I haf bring him to your town und I show you how he vorks."
"But why did you bring it to me?" asked Dick.
"Vhy? Because, listen," and the little man approached closer and began whispering. "I read about you in der papers. Iss it nod so?" and he smiled broadly. "You are der richest young man vot efer vos. Ach, I know!" and he winked one eye at Dick, as though the millionaire's son had tried to conceal something.
"So, now I proceed. I hear of your great wealth. I learn you vos a young mans. You are bright, quick, smart. Yes, iss it not? Vell, I invent der airships. I am a shoemaker in my city, many miles from here. Vun day der great ideas comes to me. I see a bat fly. Quick, I say, I will make me a airships like der bat. He is heavier as a bird, yet he flies. So I stop making shoes und I make airships. Iss it not so?" and once more the smile illuminated the kindly face.
"Did you succeed?" asked Dick.
"Not at first," replied the German, gravely. "Many, many times I t'ink I fly into der air, but I falls to der ground. Sometimes it hurts. Vunce I breaks my leg. But dot iss noddings. Ven I get vell I make improvements. Now I haf der great machine vot flies; yes?"
"Where is it?" asked Dick, becoming interested in the queer little man.
Then Herr Doodlebrod proceeded to explain. He said he had heard of Dick's wealth, and, needingmoney to make some improvements in his ship, he had taken it apart, shipped it to Hamilton Corners, and followed the machine. The airship was now at the freight station, he added, and he was about to put it together and give a demonstration.
"What for?" asked Dick.
"To show you how he vorks. Den you vill believe. You vill invest some money in it, I shall make der improvements, get a better motor, und ve win der government prize of ten thousand dollars."
"Government prize?" repeated Dick.
The German explained at greater length. The United States Government, in common with other nations, recognizing the future in flying machines for war purposes, had established a sort of competitive test, with a substantial prize for the machine which successfully fulfilled the conditions. The chief ones were that the apparatus must move through the air at a certain distance above the ground, must carry two passengers, must be under perfect control, and must stay up a certain length of time. The German said his machine answered nearly all these requirements, but that he needed some new materials in it, and, more than anything else, a new motor. He had used up all his savings and had tried in vain to get someone to help him. So, hearing of Dick, he had decided to appeal to the millionaire's son.
"It iss not so much dot I need," he went on."If I had five hundred dollars it would be enough. My dear young frient, I appeal to you. I do not ask you for dot moneys. I say just invest it in my machine und ve vill be successful und get der ten thousand dollars. You shall haf five thousand. Iss not dot a good investment?"
A sudden idea came to Dick. An investment, promising quick returns was just what he needed. He had tried in vain to find one, and the time was daily growing shorter. Here might be the very chance he desired. But there was one important thing. He must be sure that the airship would fly. If it did not the prize would not be won and he would be out five hundred dollars. Herr Doodlebrod saw the doubt pictured on Dick's face.
"I do not ask you to take my word," he said, gravely. "I only ask for a chance to show you. See, I vill bring my machine here. I vill put him togeder und I vill fly in him. Der trouble iss dot I cannot go far enough or stay up long enough vid der motor dot I haf. Wid a new vun I can. I need der money for der new motor. Vill you invest it?"
"I will!" exclaimed Dick, suddenly.
"Ach! Bless you, my young friend!" and Herr Doodlebrod rushed over to the millionaire's son and threw his arms about Dick, an embrace somewhat difficult to escape from, so hearty was it.
"But I must first talk to my father," went onDick, when Herr Doodlebrod's enthusiasm had somewhat cooled down. "If the ship is a success so far, and by investing five hundred dollars a better one can be entered for the prize, so that I can win part of it, I'm sure he would have no objections."
"I go for my airship," said the German. "I bring him here und in two days he is ready to fly."
"Better not bring it here," advised Dick. "There isn't much room to try it around the house, and too big a crowd would gather. We'll go off in the country somewhere. My father owns some property about five miles from here. It's a big level field, and I think that will be the best place."
"Der very t'ing," assented the German, and Dick told him how to get to it. Herr Doodlebrod hurried off to the freight station to arrange for having his dismantled flying machine brought to the place where the test was to be made.
"This may be the very thing I've been looking for," reasoned Dick. "Winning five thousand dollars on an investment of five hundred is pretty good. I guess that will fulfill the conditions of mother's will. The question is: will it fly? But if it doesn't at the first test I'm out nothing. And if it flies with his present engine it surely will with a better one. I must tell dad about it."
Mr. Hamilton was not much impressed with Herr Doodlebrod's plan. He admitted that thegovernment had offered a prize for a successful airship, but he thought an old shoemaker was hardly a possible person to win it.
"Scientific men have devoted many years of study to the problem," he said, "and they have not solved it yet. Still, of course, there's a chance. As you say, you're out nothing if it doesn't work the first time. But how about after you have put the five hundred dollars in, and the ship doesn't sail?"
"If it sails with the old engine it surely ought to with the new," declared Dick, repeating his favorite argument.
Mr. Hamilton consented that Dick might make the investment. It was a queer one, he said, but he agreed that if Herr Doodlebrod won the prize, and gave Dick half, the terms of Mrs. Hamilton's will would have been complied with.
"I'll get out of going to Uncle Ezra's yet," said the millionaire's son. "The mine failed, the milk company failed, but the airship will beat them all."
Herr Doodlebrod was a quick worker. In less time than Dick had believed possible he had the parts of the machine at the place decided on for the test. There, under the inventor's directions, men aided him in putting it together.
In shape it looked like a huge bat, and was built on the principle of an aeroplane. At the stern an immense rudder was turned by a small gasolene motor, and there were several smallerrudders for directing the course of the apparatus. There was a little car, of basket-work, amidships, where the operator sat.
It was three days before the German was satisfied that all was in readiness for the preliminary test that was to tell if Dick would spend five hundred dollars on improvements. In spite of the attempt to keep the matter quiet the news leaked out, and a big crowd gathered to see Herr Doodlebrod make an attempt to fly.
"I do not promise so much to-day," he said, as he saw that all was in readiness. "I vill go up, circle about for a vile, und den I haf to come down. My engine iss not powerful enough. But vid der new one! Ach, den ve vill fly far und vin der prize!"
He climbed into the little basket-car. Giving a look over the various handles and levers, and seeing that all was clear ahead, Herr Doodlebrod started the motor. It began to revolve rapidly, crackling like a battery of Gatling guns.
"Now I fly!" exclaimed the German, as he threw on the clutch that operated the propeller. The big airship trembled as the massive blades whizzed through the air, and all eyes were fixed on it to detect the moment when it might leave the earth and sail aloft.
"There it goes!" cried a score of voices, Dick's among them. And, sure enough, the airship moved. Slowly, but gathering speed, like some ungainly creature, it rose into the air in a slanting direction. Up and up it went, until it was about two hundred feet above the earth. Then Herr Doodlebrod shifted a rudder and the machine flew along on a level keel.
"Look at her go!" cried Frank Bender, for he and all of Dick's boy chums had been invited to the test. "Gee, but I wish I was in her!"
"You'd stand on your head on one of the propeller blades, I suppose," commented Walter Mead.
"Look, he's turning around!" exclaimed Frank, to change the subject from his acrobatic abilities, concerning which he was a bit sensitive.
Sure enough, Herr Doodlebrod was flying around in a circle. He seemed to be able to manage the ship perfectly, and Dick was delighted. He already saw the prize won with the improved craft, and himself holder of half the money.
"Look out, he's falling!" yelled Bricktop, suddenly,and the crowd of men, women, boys and girls strained their eyes to see what was happening. The airship was certainly coming down.
"Oh, he'll be killed! Isn't it terrible!" exclaimed Birdy Lee, who, with some of her girl friends, had come to watch the test.
"I'm going to faint!" declared Nettie Henderson, covering her eyes with her hands.
"No, he isn't falling; he's steering it down!" declared Dick. "He's all right!"
This announcement relieved the feelings of all. Herr Doodlebrod was indeed coming down. But he had his ship under perfect control, as shown by the manner in which he steered it in a half circle so as to return to the place from which he had started. In a few minutes he allowed it to come to a stop on the ground, in the midst of the throng, where it alighted as gently as a bird.
"Vot I tell you?" he asked of Dick, triumphantly. "I could haf stayed longer, but my engine he vill not stand it. Ven ve gets der new motor—den ve two vill sail in der clouds."
"I guess you'll have to excuse me from the first trip," objected Dick, with a smile. "I want to see it tried first."
"It iss as safe as on der ground. Vait, I vill show you. But now, are you satisfied?"
"Yes," replied Dick. "I'm willing to invest five hundred dollars in a new motor. Then we'll see how she works."
"Und den ve vin der grand prize," announcedthe German. "But I haf much to do. Ven can you spare der money?"
"As soon as you want it. Perhaps you had better come back to town with me and we can talk it over with my father."
The airship was taken to a big barn near the scene of the test and some workmen left in charge to guard it from the curious crowd that gathered. Herr Doodlebrod was as calm and collected as though flying was an every-day accomplishment of his, but Dick was quite excited over what had taken place. Not only did he see the conditions of his mother's will fulfilled, but he was glad of the opportunity of taking part in helping to solve the problem of aerial navigation.
Mr. Hamilton was informed of the test and its success. A form of agreement was drawn up to protect the interests of all parties, and Dick gave Herr Doodlebrod a check for five hundred dollars, taking a mortgage on the machine as security, a proposition the inventor himself suggested.
"Now I go to New York for der engine," he announced.
Three days later a letter arrived from the German. He said he was having some difficulties in getting the engine made, but expected to be back at Hamilton Corners in a week.
"You'll have to hustle, Dick, to win that prize before the year expires," said his father, with a smile. "Aren't you getting anxious?"
"A little, but I guess it will all come out right. It won't take long to install the engine once we get it."
At the end of the week the German arrived with the engine. He was enthusiastic over it, and declared the government prize was already his. He had communicated with a representative of the War Department, who promised to be on hand when the test was made, to see if Herr Doodlebrod's machine answered the requirements.
"But haf no fears," boasted the inventor to Dick. "It vill, und ve vill reap der reward."
"I hope so," answered Dick. "I haven't much time left."
There were several delays in getting the ship in shape for the decisive test. Herr Doodlebrod was not satisfied with one of the rudders and ordered a new one made. Dick urged haste, as he had in mind the year limit fixed in his mother's will.
"Easy, easy," counseled the German. "I haf spent fifteen years on der machine; vot iss a few days?"
"Much, to me," said Dick.
"Do not vorry, my young friend," comforted the inventor. "You shall haf made der finest investment vot effer vos. I, Herr Doodlebrod, say so. Dot uncle of yours shall nefer get you." For Dick had told the German about the conditions of the will.
But, in spite of all their haste, it was sometime longer ere the machine was ready for the test. The new motor had been put in, and, though it was not tried in the air, worked perfectly. The propeller revolved twice as fast, and this, the inventor said, meant twice as much speed.
"To-morrow ve haf der test," announced the German one evening, as he completed the last change on the airship.
"Will the government official be here?" asked Dick.
"He has promised. I go to bed early dot my nerves may be in good shape. Haf no fears, I vill fly, und fly far. Der requirements vill all be met; I, Herr Doodlebrod, say so."
True to his promise, the government expert on aerial matters arrived at Hamilton Corners the next day. He sought out Herr Doodlebrod and Dick, and said he was ready to see their machine tested. The preparations had all been made and there was no delay.
In Dick's runabout he, his father, the inventor and the representative from the War Department, Colonel Claflin, went out to the big field where the airship awaited them. A large crowd was waiting. It seemed that everyone in Hamilton Corners, who could, by any possibility get away from work, was there.
The airship was hauled from the barn where it had been during the night, closely guarded against possible accidents. It looked larger than ever as, almost at the last minute, the inventorhad increased the size of some of the bat-like wings that extended on either side.
Herr Doodlebrod was the calmest person in the big crowd. He went about looking at the wheels, levers, rods, rudders and the propeller as if he was merely a spectator. But his sharp eyes did not miss anything. He detected a loose screw in the motor and called for a tool to adjust it. Then, having seen that the gasolene tank was filled, and that the various handles for controlling the machine worked smoothly, he took his place in the basket-car, which had been enlarged.
"Vould you not like to come?" he asked of Dick. But Dick shook his head in dissent.
"You come," the inventor invited Colonel Claflin, but the government representative begged to be excused.
"I may try it with you after your first flight," he said.
As the specifications called for the carrying of two passengers the absence of one was made up by some bags of sand to give the necessary weight.
"Iss all clear?" asked Herr Doodlebrod.
"Clear she is," replied his chief helper.
"Den here I goes!" exclaimed the inventor as he started the motor and threw in the clutch operating the propeller.
The big arms beat the air and hummed shrilly as they whizzed around. The new motor madethe frail airship tremble. There was a moment's hesitation, as if the craft hated to leave the earth, and then, with a little jerk, it soared aloft.
"Hurrah!" yelled the crowd.
"She works! She works!" cried Dick, capering about in delight. He thought the prize already won. Even Colonel Claflin looked pleased.
Herr Doodlebrod deflected one of the rudders and the airship went up at a sharp angle. In a few seconds it was several hundred feet high. Then it started to move about in a circle.
"Wonderful!" murmured several.
"He seems to know his business," remarked Mr. Hamilton. "I didn't believe it would work. I haven't much faith in airships."
"Well, it has gone, so far," replied Colonel Claflin. "But the test is not completed. Let's watch him."
In a great circle Herr Doodlebrod sent his ship around. He turned and twisted this way and that. Then he set off in a straight line, as called for by the government requirements.
But suddenly something happened. There was a sharp sound, like an explosion, up on the airship. The big propellor was seen to fly to pieces and come fluttering down, a mass of twisted wire and cloth.
Then came another ominous sound. It was a louder explosion, and a sheet of fire was seen to envelop the ship.
"His gasolene tank has gone up!" exclaimed Colonel Claflin. "He'll be killed!"
The airship seemed rent apart. The two big, bat-like wings soared off to one side. Rudders, wheels, levers and parts of machinery came raining down. The bat wings settled to the earth more slowly.
"Where is the inventor?" asked Mr. Hamilton. "Has he been blown to pieces?"
"It looks so," replied the colonel. "Poor chap! I'm afraid he didn't know so much about airships as he thought."
There came a cry from the crowd, not a cry of horror, but of wonder. The colonel, Dick and Mr. Hamilton looked toward where they pointed.
There, falling through space from his wrecked airship, was Herr Doodlebrod.
"Look! Look!" cried the crowd, again and again.
And there was no small cause for wonder; for, though the inventor was falling to earth, he had hold of one of the immense bat-like wings. It acted exactly as a parachute, the air catching under the curved surface. Thus the inventor came down so slowly that he was not in the slightest danger. It was a wonderful escape.
No sooner had he alighted than he hurried up to where Dick stood, his face showing the sorrow he felt.
"Vell, my young friend," said Herr Doodlebrod, "ve haf made vun grand mistake. But I know vat der trouble vas. I need a stronger propellor. Ve vill make vun at vunce, und haf anodder test."
"I'm afraid it will be too late for me," remarked Dick, ruefully.
"Ach, dot iss so," assented the German. "But neffer mind. I shall yet fly. I vill at once proceed to build a new machine. I vill make somemore shoes until I haf saved money enough, und den I try again," and he smiled as though what had just happened was the thing he had always desired.
The crowd gathered about the disabled airship, which was mostly consumed by the flames before it had reached the earth. Herr Doodlebrod had the men save what they could, and, not a bit discouraged, he set about packing up the remnants to take away.
"Too bad," remarked Colonel Claflin, "but such accidents will happen. He's a cool fellow, at any rate."
Dick and his father went home together in the runabout, the colonel declining their invitation to pay them a visit. The German inventor went away and that was the last seen of him.
Swiftly the days passed, and in sheer desperation Dick invested several hundred dollars in three different schemes. But none of them paid. In one he lost all his money and in the others he got his money back and that was all.
"It's no use!" he groaned to himself. "I guess it takes a brighter fellow than I to make money."
Mr. Hamilton did not say much, but he was almost as anxious as his son, for he did not wish to see Dick fail.
One morning Mr. Hamilton went out with Dick in the youth's runabout.
"Well, my son, to-morrow is your birthday,"remarked the parent, after speaking of many things in general.
"I know it, dad," was the gloomy answer. And then Dick went on: "I suppose there is no way of getting clear of the provisions of that will?"
"I know of none. Your dear departed mother's wishes must be respected."
"Oh, dear!" Dick gave a long sigh. "Well, perhaps I can stand Uncle Ezra, but it's going to be a—er—a stiff proposition."
"I'm sorry," commented Mr. Hamilton. "But perhaps it will be a good thing for you. Your Uncle Ezra has excellent discipline, and he's a good man of business."
"I don't doubt that, dad."
Father and son did not say much during the ride home, as each was busy with his thoughts. As Dick went up the steps of the Hamilton mansion the butler met him at the door.
"Your Uncle Ezra is here," he announced.
"Oh, dear!" commented Dick, with a groan.
"Ah, Nephew Richard," was Mr. Larabee's greeting when Dick found him in the library. "I've come to payyoua little visit, you see. I happened to remember that to-morrow is your birthday, and, according to the—to the provisions of your mother's will you may be going to paymea visit. I can't say I altogether approve of that will, still we will not discuss that now. The main thing is, Have you made the paying investment called for?"
"No, I haven't, Uncle Ezra."
"Hum, well, I didn't think you would. Boys have no head for business nowadays. I knew your money would do you little good. So you are to come and live a year with me, eh?"
"I suppose so. Yes, of course, Uncle Ezra," and Dick tried to make his voice sound cheerful, but it was hard work when he thought of the gloomy house.
"Well, I told Samanthy I'd bring you back with me, and she's going to have your room all ready. Then, too, I've arranged to send you to a good boarding school. It is taught by a friend of mine; a man who doesn't believe in nonsense."
Dick could see, in fancy, the kind of a school Uncle Ezra would pick out, and he could also fancy the principal of it, a harsh, stern old man. He sighed, but there was no help for it.
"So I will take you away with me to-morrow," went on Mr. Larabee, rubbing his hands as if delighted at the prospect. "I shall—Gracious goodness! What's that?" he exclaimed, jumping from his chair, as a loud growl sounded from under the library table. "Have you a wild animal in here, Nephew Richard?"
"I guess it's my bulldog, Grit," replied Dick. "Here, Gibbs," calling the butler, "have Grit taken to the stable."
Grit was led away, growling out a protest.
"I can't bear dogs," said Uncle Ezra. "You'llnot be allowed to have one at The Firs, so you had better get rid of this one."
"Oh, I suppose I can leave Grit home," answered Dick, with a sigh. "Can I get you something to eat, Uncle Ezra?" he asked, trying to be hospitable.
"No, thank you, Nephew Richard. I never eat between meals, nor do I allow it at my house. Three times a day is enough to eat."
"Maybe you would like some lemonade; it's quite warm to-day." Dick was both hungry and thirsty.
"No, lemonade is bad for the liver, I have heard. You may get me some plain water, if you please."
"And I've got to live a year with him," mused Dick as he went out to get his uncle a drink. "Why, oh why, didn't some of my investments succeed?"
Dick spent a miserable evening with his uncle. Mr. Hamilton came home from the bank, whither he had gone after the ride, and greeted his brother-in-law.
"Well, I guess you'll have to take Dick back with you," said the millionaire, with an attempt at cheerfulness.
"I intend to, and when he comes back from living with me he'll be a different lad," said Mr. Larabee, grimly.
"I guess that's true enough," thought Dick.
He dreamed that night that he went to hisuncle's house in an airship, and when they got there it turned into a vault in a cemetery and he was made a prisoner in it. He awoke with a start to find his uncle calling to him from the hall outside his door.
"Come, Nephew Richard," said Mr. Larabee. "It's six o'clock, and you'll have to get up early when you're at my house. Might as well begin now."
"Oh, this is a beautiful birthday," said Dick, with a groan, as he began to dress. "Six o'clock! Ugh!"
It was arranged that they were to take an early train to Dankville, and, soon after breakfast, Dick, having packed his suitcase, and arranged to have his trunk forwarded to him at The Firs, went to the library where his father and uncle were waiting for him.
"Well, Dick," remarked Mr. Hamilton, with a little catch in his voice, for he hated to part with his son, though he knew the experience might be good for him. "I guess it's time to say good-bye."
"I suppose so," replied Dick, trying to keep back the tears, which, in spite of all he could do, would come to his eyes.
"Yes, we must be going," agreed Mr. Larabee. "I'll write to you, Mortimer, and let you know how Dick gets along. I have no doubt but I'll make a fine man of him. Too much wealth is bad for a young man. Come along, Nephew Richard."
Dick started to leave the room. At that instant the doorbell rang and Gibbs, answering it, came into the library and announced:
"Mr. Henry Darby and his son, to see Mr. Dick."
"I guess they have come to say good-bye," said the millionaire's son. "Show them in, Gibbs."
"Hank" Darby did not need any "showing." He was in the library as Gibbs turned to go back to the door.
"Excuse this intrusion," he began, "but I am in a hurry. I have a very important scheme on and I must attend to it at once. But my son insisted that we come and tell Mr. Dick what has happened, he being a partner in our enterprise—The International and Consolidated Old Metal Corporation."
"Yes, Dick!" cried Henry, unable to wait for his father to tell the news in his slow, pompous way. "Things are in fine shape. In fact the old metal business can now pay a dividend."
"A dividend?"
"Yes, you remember me telling you about a lot of old scrap-iron and steel dad bought, thinking it had platinum in it?"
"Yes, and it didn't have any in."
"Merely an error in judgment," murmured Mr. Darby. "Any business man, with large schemes on hand, is liable to make them."
"Well, while the metal didn't have any platinum in it, it had a peculiar quality of steel. It is veryvaluable, and I—that is we"—turning toward his father—"have just sold it to a large firm that wants it to make some very fine springs with."
"Yes, the deal is just completed," broke in Mr. Darby. "My judgment in that old metal is confirmed. I have accepted an offer of two thousand dollars for it. Under the terms of the incorporation papers one-half of that goes to Dick. I now take pleasure in handing you my check for that amount, as president of The International and Consolidated Old Metal Corporation," and with a grand air "Hank" handed Dick a slip of paper.
"Is this mine?" asked the millionaire's son, in some bewilderment.
"It is," replied Mr. Darby. "It is part of the return from your investment of two hundred and fifty dollars which you put into the firm of which I am president, you treasurer, and my son secretary and general manager."
"That is, I collect the old iron and sell it," explained Henry, seeing that Mr. Larabee looked puzzled. "Dick was kind enough to invest some money with our company last year, and I am glad I can make a return for him—or, rather, dad can, for he bought the metal that turned out so valuable."
"Then—then—" began Dick, a light slowly breaking over him, "without intending it, I have made a good, paying investment. A thousand dollars for two hundred and fifty is good, isn't it, dad?"
"Fine, I would say," cried Mr. Hamilton, with a smile.
"And this is my birthday! The year is just up!" went on Dick. "I—I won't have to go and live with Uncle——"
He stopped in some confusion.
"Do you mean to tell me that this is a bona-fide investment, Mortimer?" asked Mr. Larabee, turning to his brother-in-law.
"Perfectly legal and legitimate," interrupted Mr. Darby. "Here is a copy of the incorporation agreement."
"Well," remarked Uncle Ezra, with a disappointed air, "I suppose you have fulfilled the conditions of your mother's will, Nephew Richard. I congratulate you," and he shook hands rather stiffly.
"Well, who would have thought it?" gasped Dick, hardly able to believe his good fortune. "I never gave that investment a thought—in fact, I never considered it an investment, Henry."
"It was, all the same, and I'm glad I am able to do you a favor, for you did me a mighty good turn. The old metal business is in fine shape, and I have more than I can attend to."
"Yes, we must be going, I have a big scheme on hand," put in Mr. Darby. "A very big scheme, there are enormous possibilities in it.Enormous, sir!"
"If they only come out," said Henry, with a laugh, as he and his father withdrew.
"Well, if you are not to come back with me, I suppose I may as well be going," remarked Uncle Ezra, after a pause. "Samanthy will be looking for me. I'll say good-bye."
He turned to go, and at that instant an ominous growl came from under the library table.
"What's that?" asked Mr. Larabee in alarm.
"I—I think it's Grit," replied Dick, trying not to laugh.
"That bulldog again!" exclaimed Mr. Larabee. "I hate dogs! I wish——"
But what he wished he never said, for Grit, seeming to know that an enemy of his master was present, rushed from under the table, and, with opened mouth, though he probably would not have bitten him, rushed at Uncle Ezra.
"Here, Grit!" cried Dick. "Come back here this instant!"
But, with a wild yell, Mr. Larabee ran from the room, followed by the dog. Out through the hall and down the steps Dick's uncle ran, the dog growling behind him. But Gibbs captured Grit at the front door and held him.
"Grit! Aren't you ashamed of yourself?" asked Dick, trying not to laugh. But Grit growled in a way that seemed to say he was not in the least ashamed.
Mr. Larabee hurried off down the street, not once looking back.
"Well, that was a narrow escape," murmured Dick. "Eh, dad?"
"I suppose so. Still a visit to your uncle's house might have done you good," added the millionaire, with a twinkle in his eyes.
"Now, dad," went on Dick, "I suppose that as I have fulfilled all the conditions of the will I may do pretty nearly as I please."
"Not altogether," and the millionaire spoke rather gravely. "It is true you will have a certain control of your money left you by your mother, but you remember I told you, a year ago, there were certain other provisions of the will. One of them is that you attend a good military school."
"A military school!" exclaimed Dick, his eyes sparkling. "That will be fine."
"Yes, but wait. The conditions are that you attend there and become popular with the students in spite of your wealth. In short, that you make your own way up without the aid of your millions, and become one of the upper classmen through your own efforts. It is not going to be as easy as you think, but I trust you can do it. There is no great hurry about it. I will give you a few months of leisure and then you must get ready for a new life."
"Oh, dad, I think it will be fine!" exclaimed Dick; "I've always wanted to go to a military academy!" But he little knew of what was in store for him. Those who wish to follow the further adventures of the young millionaire will find them set forth in the second volume of thisseries, entitled "Dick Hamilton's Cadet Days; or the Handicap of a Millionaire's Son."
"Well, Grit, you certainly routed Uncle Ezra," said Dick, as he patted the ugly head of his pet. "I don't know as I blame you. But it's all over now, though I had some stirring times while it lasted." And, whistling gaily, Dick went out to deposit in the bank his thousand-dollar check, the profits of his one paying investment.
A NEW LINE OF CLEVER TALES FOR BOYS
DICK HAMILTON'S FORTUNEOr The Stirring Doings of a Millionaire's Son
Dick, the son of a millionaire, has a fortune left to him by his mother. But before he can touch the bulk of this money it is stipulated in his mother's will that he must do certain things, in order to prove that he is worthy of possessing such a fortune. The doings of Dick and his chums make the liveliest kind of reading.
DICK HAMILTON'S CADET DAYSOr The Handicap of a Millionaire's Son
The hero, a very rich young man, is sent to a military academy to make his way without the use of money. A fine picture of life at an up-to-date military academy is given, with target shooting, broad-sword exercise, trick riding, sham battles, and all. Dick proves himself a hero in the best sense of the word.
DICK HAMILTON'S STEAM YACHTOr A Young Millionaire and the Kidnappers
A series of adventures while yachting in which our hero's wealth plays a part. Dick is marooned on an island, recovers his yacht and foils the kidnappers. The wrong young man is spirited away, Dick gives chase and there is a surprising rescue at sea.
DICK HAMILTON'S AIRSHIPOr A Young Millionaire in the Clouds
This new book is just brimming over with hair-raising adventures of Dick Hamilton in his new airship.
DICK HAMILTON'S TOURING CAROr A Young Millionaire's Race for Fortune
A series of thrilling adventures. Dick and his friends see the country in a huge touring car. Their exciting trip across the country, how they saved a young man's fortune and other exciting incidents are very cleverly told.
Price 50 cents each
The Goldsmith Publishing Co.
Cleveland, O.