"What is it? What's the news?"
"It's a telegram from Dick," answered their Uncle Randolph. "I can't quite make it out, but, evidently, it is very important. Here it is."
He fumbled in the pocket of his coat, and brought forth the yellow envelope and handed it to Tom. Taking out the telegram, the youth read it, with Sam looking over his shoulder. It ran as follows:
"If possible, I want Sam and Tom to come to New York at once. Very important. Do not alarm father.
"Richard Rover."
"What do you make of this, Tom?" asked Sam, after he had read the telegram several times.
"I don't know what to make of it, Sam. But one thing is certain: Dick needs us. Something out of the ordinary has happened."
"That is just what I think, boys," put in their uncle. "Maybe I had better go with you," he added, nervously.
"No, no, Randolph. You stay here with me," pleaded his wife. "The boys can attend to the New York matters better than you can." She knew her husband well, and realized that he was decidedly backward when it came to the transaction of business matters of importance. He was wrapped up in his books and his theories about scientific farming and was a dreamer in the largest sense of that word.
"Very well, my dear, just as you say," answered the uncle, meekly.
"Boys, you won't disturb your father, will you?" continued their Aunt Martha, anxiously. "You know the doctor said he must not be disturbed under any circumstances."