have an automobile up near the
Falls, and I'd be delighted to--"

"We come by the cars and I guess they're good enough for us to go home
by," Mr. Nolan interrupted roughly. "We're blocking the way here. Come,
Lena." He glowered at Dick's lifted hat and added quite audibly:
"Confound the dude! Thought he could cut in, did he?"

"Now then," said Dick as he dropped back, "the oaf made a mistake. If
he'd gracefully accepted my offer, he'd have gone up several pegs in her
estimation. As it is, when her pretty little feet get trodden on by the
crowd on the back platform, she will view us with regret as we whizz by.
Poor little Andromeda!"

They loitered as the other "trippers", now filled with zeal to catch the
trolley, pushed past them up the glen, and soon they were practically
alone. Nature reasserted her sway as though there had never been
laughter and babble along the musical stream and under the over-arching
trees. The friends walked more and more slowly. A white thing lay on the
path before them, and Dick stooped to pick it up, while Ellery looked on
with mild curiosity.

"It's a letter, stamped and sealed." Percival peered at it closely, for
though the level sunlight flooded the tops of the trees, down here by
the stream it was fast growing dark.

"Not much sealed, either," he added, noticing what a tiny spot of the
flap stuck tight to the paper beneath. "Some one has dropped it here. By
Jove, Ellery, it's addressed to William Barry! I'd give a farm in North
Dakota to know what's in it."

He turned it again and stared at the back.

"I noticed," said Ellery, "that there was a mail-box near where we left
the automobile. You can post it as we go along."

"Yes," assented Dick. He glared at the name of William Barry as though
it fascinated him. Then he tucked the letter into his breast pocket.

As the motor began to champ its bit, Norris remarked:

"You forgot to mail that letter, Dick."

"So I did," said Dick. "No matter. I'll post it in town. It will go all
the quicker."

CHAPTER IX

AN INVITATION

A full month slipped away after the little excursion down the river
before Dick saw Lena Quincy again. In fact he had almost forgotten her.
That day, if it was recalled at all, was chiefly memorable because it
marked a change in his attitude toward his chosen occupation. It seemed
that revelation after revelation poured upon him. The intricate threads
of city politics fascinated him more and more as