er--for
it makes me sad to recall your dear mother, and the careful way she made
provision that you should grow up to be a wise and good man--I think we
will have a little lunch. I am hungry and I think you are, so I arranged
a little birthday dinner for you."

Mr. Hamilton led the way to the large dining room, where, upon the
mahogany table, cut glass and silver sparkled in profusion. There were
places for two and, as soon as father and son entered, a solemn butler
rang a chiming bell, and servants brought in a dainty but bountiful
meal.

"Roast duck!" exclaimed Dick, as he caught sight of it. "That's like
you, dad, to remember how fond I am of it. And I'll bet he's ordered
frozen pudding for dessert; hasn't he, Mary?" turning to the smiling
maid who was arranging some dishes on the sideboard.

"That he has, Master Dick," was the reply.

"Well, I thought I'd give you a good meal before you went to Uncle
Ezra's house," said Mr. Hamilton, with a queer smile. "You may not
get--But there, Dick, I wish you all the luck in the world, and may we
both be as happy on your next birthday," and Mr. Hamilton stood up and
gravely shook hands with his son.

"Um," murmured Dick. "Maybe I'll be at Uncle Ezra's a year from now--if
I don't make that paying investment. I wonder what sort of a place he
has, anyhow? Well, there's no use worrying now. I must take some of that
roast duck while it's hot," and he began to investigate his well-filled
plate with no little interest.

"You leave for your uncle's on the eight o'clock train to-morrow
morning," said Mr. Hamilton. "Have your things all packed to-night,
and don't be late, for your uncle is a very particular
man--a--very--particular--man," and again that grim smile came over Mr.
Hamilton's face; a smile which puzzled Dick. But he was to know the
meaning of it soon enough.

CHAPTER III

UNCLE EZRA THREATENS

Dick had not paid a visit to his Uncle Ezra since he could remember. He
dimly recalled being there when a small boy, and had a hazy memory of a
fine big house, but very gloomy, standing in the midst of large grounds
that seemed more like a cemetery than anything else. Of his uncle and
aunt he had but a faint recollection, and when he stood on the depot
platform the next morning, waiting for his train, he was in no very
happy frame of mind.

For Dick liked fun, and jolly companions, and did not relish being sent
off to visit relatives who were almost strangers to