throat before he answered
with that assumption of nonchalance which he regarded as befitting the
occasion.

"Why, I just wanted to come back home," he said; lightly. A sudden
recollection came to give him poise in this time of emotional
disturbance, and he added hastily: "And, for the love of heaven, give
Sadie five dollars. I borrowed it from her to pay the taxi'. You see,
Dad, I'm broke."

"Of course!" With the saying, Edward Gilder roared Gargantuan laughter.
In the burst of merriment, his pent feelings found their vent. He
was still chuckling when he spoke, sage from much experience of ocean
travel. "Poker on the ship, I suppose."

The young man, too, smiled reminiscently as he answered:

"No, not that, though I did have a little run in at Monte Carlo. But it
was the ship that finished me, at that. You see, Dad, they hired Captain
Kidd and a bunch of pirates as stewards, and what they did to little
Richard was something fierce. And yet, that wasn't the real trouble,
either. The fact is, I just naturally went broke. Not a hard thing to do
on the other side."

"Nor on this," the father interjected, dryly.

"Anyhow, it doesn't matter much," Dick replied, quite unabashed. "Tell
me, Dad, how goes it?"

Gilder settled himself again in his chair, and gazed benignantly on his
son.

"Pretty well," he said contentedly; "pretty well, son. I'm glad to see
you home again, my boy." There was a great tenderness in the usually
rather cold gray eyes.

The young man answered promptly, with delight in his manner of speech,
and a sincerity that revealed the underlying merit of his nature.

"And I'm glad to be home, Dad, to be"--there was again that clearing of
the throat, but he finished bravely--"with you."

The father avoided a threatening display of emotion by an abrupt change
of subject to the trite.

"Have a good time?" he inquired casually, while fumbling with the papers
on the desk.

Dick's face broke in a smile of reminiscent happiness.

"The time of my young life!" He paused, and the smile broadened. There
was a mighty enthusiasm in his voice as he continued: "I tell you, Dad,
it's a fact that I did almost break the bank at Monte Carlo. I'd have
done it sure, if only my money had held out."

"It seems to me that I've heard something of the sort before," was
Gilder's caustic comment. But his smile was still wholly sympathetic. He
took a curious vicarious delight in the escapades of his son, probably
because