on
more about his new wealth, but Dick did not give him much satisfaction.
However, Simon was sharp, and by dint of skillful hints and questions
learned more than Dick thought he had told. Guy, too, was much
interested, and a visible change came over his manner.

Guy's father, Peter Fletcher, was president of the Hamilton Trust
Company, and, though Mr. Hamilton owned most of the stock of the
concern, and had only placed Mr. Fletcher at the head of the
institution for business reasons, Guy gave himself as many airs as
though his father owned the bank. Learning that Dick had come into
possession of some wealth on his own account, though he did not know the
source, Guy was somewhat inclined to toady to the youth with whom he was
on more or less friendly terms.

It was two days after this, when the evening papers arrived in Hamilton
Corners, that a mild sensation was created. There, on the front pages,
was what purported to be a picture of Dick Hamilton, while under it was
the caption, in big letters:

THE MILLIONAIRE YOUTH.

Then followed a garbled, but fairly correct, account of how Dick,
through the will of his mother, had come into possession of fabulous
wealth. Of course the figure was put much higher than it really was. In
fact, no one but Mr. Hamilton was aware of the exact amount, but this
did not stop the writer of the article from guessing at it.

Dick was described as a modern King Midas, and he was credited with
sleeping in an ivory bed and eating off of gold plates and the rarest of
cut glass. Nothing was said about the peculiar provisions of the will
regarding the investment he was to make; but the boundless opportunities
open to a youth with unlimited wealth at his disposal were all pointed
out.

"Well, if that isn't the limit!" exclaimed Dick, when he saw the paper.
"I wonder who did it?"

Perhaps if he had asked Simon Scardale that question that youth might
have been confused, but Dick never thought of it.

"It certainly is very unpleasant notoriety," remarked Mr. Hamilton, "but
you'll have to put up with it. You are a sort of ward of the public now,
and the newspapers think they have a proprietary interest in you. I have
been through it all, and so has nearly every other person of wealth. The
best way is to pay no attention to it, and to treat with courtesy any
newspaper men who may wish to interview you. They have a hard enough
life, and if our doings, to a certain extent, interest them, wh