The cry came from up the street, and soon a boy of Dick's age was running to meet them. It was Frank Harrington, their old school chum and room-mate of Dormitory No. 6.
"Frank!" came from the three, and a general handshaking followed.
"What brings you here?" asked Dick.
"Why, don't you know, my folks moved up to Albany from New York—father's in the State Senate now, you know," returned Frank, with pride.
"Oh, that's so—and you are a senator's son," put in Tom. "I guess we'll have to tip our hats to you after this and call you Mr. Harrington."
"Stow it, Tom, and keep your jokes until school opens," interrupted Frank. "Yes, we live here, and I thought you knew all about it. I sent you a letter."
"We've been away from home for several weeks," explained Dick, and told of their outing on the water.
"It must be jolly. My father owns a boat, but we seldom use it. So you are going to stay in Albany over tomorrow? If that's the case you must come up to our house. I won't hear of your going to a hotel."
"Will that arrangement suit your folks?" questioned Dick.
"Oh, yes! The girls are all away—down to Asbury Park—and so is mother; and father and I and the servants have the whole mansion to ourselves. I can tell you, it's just a bit lonely at times, and I'm real glad you came," concluded Frank.