e lot in the
bargain, and I soon made up my mind that those silly people who had
been hinting that Old Mr. Dugdale might be that notorious Wall Street
speculator who had such a bad name, and who'd disappeared several years
ago, didn't know what they were talking about. Why, he is a polished
gentleman, and a foreigner at that, I tell you, Hugh.

"He started talking about his grandson. How his wrinkled face lighted
up when I said my chum, Hugh Morgan, had taken a great fancy for Owen,
and that I shared in the same feeling. You could see easily enough
that Mr. Dugdale believes the sun rises and sets in that boy of his.
Nothing would do, finally, but that he should take me to seen the den
Owen had fitted up for himself, because there was plenty of room in the
big house, and every fellow he knew had some kind of a den in which he
could keep his boyish treasures, in the way of foreign postage stamp
albums, photos taken by himself connected with outings he had been on,
college flags and burgees, and well, just such traps as the average boy
liked to see around him when he's out of school, and settling down to
read a favorite book.

"Of course, Hugh, I told him it would be too much for his aching leg,
but he assured me the pain had now all left him; and he wanted to know
if there was anything I could suggest that Owen might have to add to
his comfort while at home studying his lessons or reading. So I went
with him upstairs. Say, it's a real queer house, and must look a whole
lot spooky at night time; because they only burn lamps and candles, for
there's no electricity connection at all, or any gas either, I suppose.

"At the end of a long hall we came to where three steps led down into a
room. It was a bully place, I will say that, with plenty of light from
a lot of small dinky windows that faced on three sides of the room.
Owen had fixed it up in good taste in the bargain. He must have plenty
of spending money, because there were lots of traps around, from a pair
of expensive snow shoes hanging on the wall to a splendid toboggan
tilted up in a corner.

"In fact, Hugh, the place was pretty well filled with boy truck. It
looked cozy to me, and I ought to know something about a boy's den;
haven't I arranged mine seven separate times, until now it's back where
I started? Well, of course, to please the old gentleman, I walked
around, and peeked at things and told him Owen had as fine a loafing
place as any boy in Scran